Always That One Day
by Raving In The Rain
Summary: It wasn't the 1st time someone tried to crash Minako Kaiba's party. She was the rich-girl, daughter of Seto Kaiba, and a rising duelist. But this was her Sweet 16; the best party Domino had ever seen. The last thing she needs is the reminder of a spring break her father would kill her for, Lola Wheeler's schemes, killer duelists, and that new Egyptian girl trying to steal her title
1. One Day

_Hey, beautifuls._

_I know these "next generation" fics have been done to death, but I've always wanted to do my version of one of these. This story has been munching on my brain since probably the seventh grade. So enjoy and tell me what you think? Love it? Hate it? I'm good either way._

* * *

"**Everything has to **be perfect!" Minako ordered.

She didn't know how many times she'd said it, but it was enough to put fear into the hearts of everyone who worked for her. No one dared question the heiress' authority. Everyone went straight to work at her commands; her assistant flitting around her iPad and calculating prices, the planners presenting designs in every shape, shade, and size, the manager rearranging his schedule and trying to bargain with the teen billionaire. Someone would have to find a way to hide the wiring for the lights. Or else. Someone would have to block off the entrance to the kitchen without it looking like some hideous, cheap blockade. Or else. Someone would have to fix the windows, the floor, and repaint the walls. And everyone hoped that that _someone_ was not them. It didn't matter that her sweet-sixteen was still months away- if Minako Kaiba wanted it, Minako Kaiba would get it. _Or el_s_e_.

The assistant was a gaunt, droopy configuration of a woman in her mid-twenties. Her once bountiful blonde hair was compiled into a tired bun, strands flopping every which way. Working under someone as difficult as Minako could age someone far quicker than most. She shook like an old glass window in a storm standing beside her fifteen year-old boss. That thought alone was hardly bearable, and she often questioned how she came to such a job. Minako, on the other hand, was a tall, brazen beauty. Armed with her father's harsh, sleek blue eyes, her glares would demand obedience. Long trails of brunette locks paced around the curves of her slender frame, and shaped her face with ruffled bangs. And there was nothing she took more pride and passion in than the designer labels hugging her body.

"Miss Kaiba, um," the assistant began hesitantly, "the venue owner would like to know how many guests you're expecting to attend. One or two hundred, I presume?"

"One or two hundred…" the Kaiba girl narrowed her eyes. "One or two hundred? Are you kidding me? I had two hundred sixty-seven at my last party, and that was when I was just turning fifteen. Hello! This is my sweet-sixteen we're talking about! You think that the biggest party Domino has seen in years is only going to have one or two hundred people?"

"No, no! Of course not! I just.. I…"

"You were just going to fix that math of yours before I felt like firing someone."

"Yes, ma'am."

Minako sighed tediously. How difficult was it to understand such simple things? Everyone knew that the Kaiba family held only the best parties- from opening events to birthdays. Anything less than perfect was inexcusable. Her parties honored, if not raised the bar, of those very traditions. It was no surprise to Minako that whenever her birthday came around, suddenly everyone would want to be her friend again.

Two suits approached with fumbling papers. They were perfectly groomed and dressed as if to state their worth to Minako. Hopefully their slicked hair and their Ralph Lauren fragrance would keep them in business, and away from her scrutiny.

"Miss Kaiba," the first one began, "here are the seating plans you asked for. Now, we'll need to make a couple of revisions since your numbers are not yet exact. But for those that we do know are coming, such as your honored guests, where would you prefer they sit?"

Minako briskly eyed the charts, the design of the biggest night of her life.

"Near the stage, of course. I want them to light the candles so they have to have an easy way up. You know, so they don't trip over tables and light my night on fire."

"Yes. And your cousin Haru Kaiba?"

"Nearest to the right. He's the most important, so he'll sit beside me." she huffed like the answer were oh-so obvious. Anyone _important_ would sit next to _her_.

"Oh. Then where shall your father be seated?"

The man fell back, questioning his own judgment and the heiress' countenance. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so bold in asking that. Minako blinked rapidly, her brows creasing into some arched dismay. For a moment she simply stood with the words drying on her tongue. It hadn't really occurred to her, at least, not in a conscious manner. She just… never thought much about where her father would sit at her own birthday celebration, what special ceremony he would partake in, what he'd wear or what he'd say. But that was because after fifteen- _soon-to-be sixteen_- years, the answer had become a sort of mundane routine.

"He won't be coming." she said.

* * *

Lola couldn't help but notice Minako that day. On any normal day, she wouldn't have cared if that stuck-up Kaiba brat showed up with a face tattoo and nipple piercings. It was just so strange not to hear her giggling amongst the popular girls on break. The usual gossip; making fun of someone's outfit at the party last weekend, how they could not believe so-and-so was talking with so-and-so, making steamy jokes about how sexy Dagan Devlin was, so on and so on. Minako instead sat by and listened to her friends blather on around her; uninterested, and vacant in presence. She wasn't even ogling her phone like she usually would.

Lola was sitting at the other side of the classroom with the Muto twins; Howard and Carter. Duel Monsters was already laid out over the desks they had pushed together. This time the winner would get the goods from their mere commoner brown-bagged lunches. And even still, Lola wasn't comfortable without the sneer of Minako slugging her from across the room. She never thought it was bullying, but more like a habit. They had always loathed each other, perhaps they were born to. At first, they didn't need any more reason other than that Lola was a Wheeler and Minako was a Kaiba. Their back and forth mudslinging was mere sport. But it was one night over last year's spring break that forever branded their disdain into something pure, something real. Lola would never forgive Minako. That she was sure of.

"Something's up with her." she started without remembering why she'd decided to say it out loud.

"Huh? Who?" Howard could hardly be deterred from his game. This time he would beat his brother. This time for sure.

"Minnie." she spat. "I mean, she hasn't threatened to kick me off the cheerleading team once today. Does that not raise any flags?"

"Don't you think you're overreacting, Lola? Just a little? I'm sure she's fine, as if you cared either way."

"Yeah. The less we have to deal with her, the happier my day will be. So let's not ruin that, shall we?" Carter chimed in after his twin, flipping over another sure-fire trap card.

"For the love of-! I hate it when you do that." Howard tried to laugh through his frustration. He swiped a hand past his golden bangs, brushing into the spiky layers of chocolate hair the twins had inherited from their mother.

Carter admired the fire in his brother, that determination to win. So even in his victorious grin, he couldn't keep even a miniscule amount of arrogance over his reflection of a brother. It was the very same grin and respect that they'd learned from their father.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game." Carter teased gently.

Lola shook her head with a laugh. Her friends were the geekiest, most kind-hearted creatures to ever roam the halls of Domino High. The twins laughed at their own jokes, defended complete strangers from childish bullies, and sat in the back of the class talking about trading cards and how much homework they could squeeze in during commercial breaks of their favorite history shows. Sometimes Lola wondered what her role was around them. To be the impetuous badass trying to get them to spray-paint the guard rails by the parking lot? Make a mess upon that innocence? The worst trouble the twins could ever get in on their own was missing a homework assignment. Lola, however, had at least six fights on her school record- if she counted correctly- and a couple of misdemeanors. And still that was nothing compared to her older brother, Jacob Wheeler.

She couldn't think about him, though. Not while in the same room with Minako. No matter how dearly she missed him, she wasn't ready to go back to that spring break night. Lola knew she wouldn't be able to handle it if she replayed it over in her head. Jacob had graduated two years ago, but that hadn't healed any of the wounds.

This time when Lola turned around, the prima-donna's eyes were ready and waiting. They shared a jagged look, as if Minako too had been thinking about the same thing. And suddenly it all collapsed. Each one harpooned the other with an almighty scowl. The classroom was gone, the gossip was hushed. They could have fought. Yes. Right then and there. Even if security was roaming the halls, even if there were other students around. They could have leapt over the desks, their fists hungry for the other's face. They totally could have. For Jacob. For hate. Anything to get rid of the image of the beach house, Mokuba Kaiba's expression as he passed through the door, or a sweaty and drained Jacob in handcuffs.

But they didn't. They simply simmered in their seats. Minako fell back into the mist of her friends' cackles and perfume. Lola drifted back to the game of Duel Monsters on the desks, to Howard and to Carter.

_Cheerleading practice was going to be hell_.

* * *

**She had to **get out of there. Soon. That night. Right then. She didn't know if she could take much more. The others would be home soon, so it was now or never. She had always known there was a world outside the Tawfiq's conservative home, but was never able to grab hold of it. Something was always in the way; the locks on the windows, the obnoxious orchestra of creaks and bells around the doors, the maze of cots spread along the floor where her brothers and sisters would sleep. Someone would wake if she tried to escape. Someone would hear her, see her. Someone would tell Om or Baba. Then she would get the belt again.

Her wrists burned at the thought.

But then, she thought, how would she make it in a world she'd only ever seen in a textbook? Did she truly want to run away, or would she grow to love this life again like Om predicted? She couldn't quite say that the Tawfiqs had been cruel to her. In fact, life had been good. They'd given her a home, food to keep her filled, extensive lessons to keep her enraptured and dynamic. Because of them, she could be a gymnast in her own living room, a gourmet chef in the kitchen, an Einstein in the conversations during dinner. Om had no problem hiring dance or language teachers to come to the home for the children. But how was all that useful if she couldn't go farther than the backyard?

"One day," Baba Tawfiq would say, "one day you can walk to the horizon."

Baba had always left it at that. Every time it was "one day". Her brothers would later chime in, a horrid snicker plaguing their otherwise gentle faces.

"Yes, banafsegy girl, one day you can leave. One day when the sun does not rise and the birds do not sing."

That one day had yet to come. Seventeen years and she was still waiting for that one, single day. She understood more and more that it was all a lie. Om and Baba would never let her go. One day she would marry a man of equal beliefs as the Tawfiqs, and then _he _would promise her a day when she could walk to the horizon. But he, too, would never let her go.

She turned to the window. Being the youngest meant her cot was the farthest from everything but the loathsome bathroom. The window was on the other side of the room where the boys slept. But it was her favorite place in the closed, plaster world she knew. Because outside there was a sun setting on the horizon she'd only walked to in her dreams. Outside, there was a river sprinkled with the colors of its celestial mirror. Oranges and peaches, dazed violets and giggling blues. Somewhere among the vibrant rays and the twinkling river, that "one day" was waiting. Calling. A self she never knew, the person she was meant to be, was out there somewhere.

Yes. She had to get out of there. That night. Right then. Pharah knew it all too well in her heart.

* * *

"**Stay tight! **Lock that knee, Wheeler! Where the hell are your hands? Look at them! Why are they way out in no-man's land? You're supposed to be doing a simple arabesque; keep your goddam hands clean at your sides when you go up, and pop them out when you actually decide to do it!"

Lola squeezed in all her muscles, centering her weight in the bases' hands. Yet no matter how clean she tried to stand in the air, her natural instincts to sway her arms for balance kept striking up. Her foot was awkwardly positioned in the hands of her bases and she could feel their muscles tiring beneath her.

"Ugh. I can't look at this anymore." Minako pinched the bridge of her nose, "Bring her down."

Lola stumbled before the bases could even pop her for the cradle. She swooped down straight into the back-spot's catch. Everyone in the stunt group was breathing hard. Sweat glued their hairs down to their foreheads and dampened their tees to a point of discomfort. But Minako wasn't finished with them yet. She didn't care in the least how tired they were. That's why they were at practice, right? To build stamina? To get better? To be her anger management toys?

"What the hell was that? Why didn't you pull anything up there?"

Lola was not going to have this. Not today.

"I wasn't sturdy! I'm not going to pull an arabesque or scorpion up there when my foot is wiggling all over the place."

"Oh. Is that so? Well, what if your foot isn't sturdy at competition, huh? What if your bases are nervous when they put you up and the music is still going? You're just going to stand there in a lib and look retarded?"

"It's better than my falling on my face and the team losing a whole ten points, 'aint it?"

"I don't know, I think your face could use a good hit. Maybe it'll knock you pretty one day."

"Minnie," one of the other cheerleaders piped in, "please. Give her a break. She's trying really hard and we're all tired, you know. Practice was supposed to end an hour ago."

With a smirk, Minako clasped her hands innocently. She shook her head as if asking why these people were talking to her like they were on the same level.

"I'm sorry, I fail to see the relevance of your argument. We are a competitive cheerleading squad. Domino High has won three national championships and several bids to attend the Worlds competition. And, honestly, you look like shit. This right here- this wobbly, messy, _train wreck _of a routine- is not going to get us any trophies. As of right now, there is no point in signing us up for _any_ competitions. An extra hour of practice everyday is not going to hurt you. And perhaps it wouldn't even be an hour if some people just hit the stunt when they were supposed to."

Lola was one of the few people who stood up to tyrants like Minako. It was a Wheeler thing. She flung her arms down and marched straight up to Minako, ready to pound a good one into her perfectly glossed lips.

"You need to back the fuck up before things get out of hand. Just because you had a bad day, princess, does not mean you get to take it out on me and this team. I trust these girls and I've seen them cheer better than you could imagine. We'll hit our shit at competition. Watch us."

"Are you threatening me, Wheeler?" Minako narrowed her eyes. Lola stepped up a little closer, their faces so near they could feel the fire.

"Do you feel threatened?"

Everyone held their breath. Clearly neither of the girls were willing to back down. The rest of the team looked on in anticipation, ready for hair to go flying, for claws to start scratching. It was only the two raps upon the wrestling room doors that prevented an all out brawl. Minako's limousine driver slid gently in. His suit and tie was incredibly harsh against the beaten old mats and the gymnasium atmosphere.

"Miss Kaiba. Your uncle awaits in the limousine."

"Very well." she sighed condescendingly and without taking her eyes from her prey. "Ashley, you're in charge. I want the last two eight-counts to the dance changed, and make them cute. Also, go over the cheer. You sound like you're singing it. Chop the words, say them loud and proud, add interjections. Assign people to say them if you must, so long as they're there."

"Yes, Minnie. C'mon, girls."

Minako shoved her way past everyone, tossing her Dolce & Gabbana purse over her shoulder. Lola watched her leave with daggering eyes. She could not believe- absolutely could not- that a person could be so evil and conniving. Lola believed every exaggerated tale her father told about Seto Kaiba simply because she could see that bitterness passed down to Minako.

Mokuba Kaiba was nearly approaching his thirties. His hair was more tame than it had been in his childhood. He kept it collected back into a low, handsome tie. His shoulders had broadened, his face had chiseled away into a sharp, grown man's. Yet there was another in the limousine whose features were very resembling to his own. Haru Kaiba, his son and Minako's cousin. He was less outgoing than Minnie, of course, in almost all manners. He was locked in his school uniform from some place that raised technological geniuses. Haru was, simply, just that. He was often awkward away from a computer screen, and bore that same frail, hopeful light that his father had. The two were close, no doubt- Haru and Mokuba. That was the only reason Minako had for being jealous of her cousin. If Mokuba were her father, his name would sure as hell be on the seating chart for her sweet sixteen.

"Hey, Minnie." Haru nodded.

"Hey." she took a turn kissing her uncle's cheek and then her cousin's. "What are you guys doing here? I thought you wouldn't be back until Christmas."

"Change of plans. Haru's school has off these next two weeks and we decided to come back and see you guys. We missed you." Mokuba smiled warmly. Minako loved that about her uncle. The surprises, the smiles, the bond he could form with just about anyone he met; it was so different from her father.

"I missed you too."

Something about the way she'd said it made Mokuba tilt his head. It sounded so earnest and yet like she were trying to cage everything up. A masked plea for help.

"What's wrong, Min?"

"Hm? Nothing. Why?"

"You just… you sounded sad to me."

"Sad? No, not even. It's just that you have no idea how lonely it's been."

**End Chapter**

* * *

**A new story? When I haven't even finished the others and just uploaded a new story before this? Ok, I know. I'm either really, really talented, or I'm really, really dumb. Yes, but see, this is one of the few days off I kind-of have so I'm going to post whatever I can WHILE I can. Wanna know why? Because I love my readers! There will be another new story coming up soon (yamixOC- blehhhk), probably by December. **

**So this is my newest story, please review and and all that jazz if you'd like. Much appreciated.**


	2. Somewhere Between Never & Ever

**Pharah was solving **equations on the floor when the eldest Tawfiq came home. She quickly jumped to her feet at the sound of the lock clicking down the hall. She dove over couches and tables trying to snatch up any mess she had made in their absence, stubbing her toe once on the chair's legs. Without supervision, the Egyptian teen had grown a jungle of papers across the living room. She was sure to get the cane again if it wasn't cleaned by the time the old woman made it down that hall. The door began to tremor open the way it was designed to; loud, annoying, and most importantly, alarming. It never failed to add another beat to her pounding heart every time it opened, never knowing who would walk through. Pharah had to hurry. She scooped up the last of her homework and placed herself on the couch just as a pair of eyes turned the corner.

"Oh, look at you. My girl still hard at work on her studies. You make my heart smile, dear." the woman croaked.

"Welcome home, Om Tawfiq."

Om Tawfiq, or Husniyah rather, appeared like any tender, doting mother would. In her youth, she'd have been a very graceful beauty. Traces of it were still left beneath her wrinkles and faded hair. But Om had an air about her, a cast over her eyes, that had always kept Pharah and the other children on their toes. She could go from honey to hell in a flash. She could roll out the dough for cookies and crush their fingers with the same roller the moment she was angered. It was obvious that she'd had many children before; though Pharah was surely her favorite. Pharah was all she ever concerned herself about. _Where was Pharah? Will Pharah want some falafels? Maybe Pharah wants to learn to belly dance? Will Pharah be alright home alone? Will Pharah be there when I get back? _She was something new, something different. It was the hair that set her apart, made her so prized. And was also why she had to be kept from sight.

Pharah knew by the time she was six that Om and Baba were not her real parents. It was her hair that helped her distinguish that. None of her brothers and sister had such a compilation of locks as her. Long as it was, Pharah's mane was nearly impossible to tame. Blonde, daggering bangs held the frame for her delicate face. The rest was raven black outlined in a sultry magenta that she'd kept tied in a high ponytail. That way the thick, zigzagging mountains of hair would bounce as freely as she wished she could. The Tawfiqs said she was a doorstep baby whenever she used to ask. It was clearly a sensitive subject to Om in particular, who insisted she knew who left the child there.

"Thugs." she'd hiss. "Your parents were rotten thugs. Count yourself blessed that the one night they'd been sober was the night they'd decided to give you away. Worse things could have happened. Be thankful they did not want you, otherwise you'd have been a waste."

And like Baba's lie of a horizon, that was all the answer there would ever be. Questions were for the ungrateful and greedy.

"What would you like for supper, little banafsegy?" cooed Om from the medieval kitchen. _Banafsegy_, they called her. Little "purple"girl, coined for the elegant shade of her eyes.

Pharah tilted her head. She knew how to answer this one.

"Whatever you wish me to have, Om Tawfiq."

Om smiled at that. "Yes, yes. I've taught you well. I wish you'd choose between ful mudammas, or koushari. What will it be?"

This one proved slightly more difficult. This was Om testing her. Testing if there were mischief afoot. Nothing in the Tawfiq household was as simple as it seemed. Choosing koushari would mean Om would have to leave the house for groceries, thus signaling a red flag. Regardless of whether or not Pharah simply wanted her favorite meal, she could be planning an escape, and Om would be having none of that. So Pharah would go to bed without dinner, and without freedom. But choosing ful mudammas was slightly less suspicious in that fava beans were a "must have" in any Egyptian home. The Tawfiqs always kept some in the kitchen. There were even bags of beans in the cellar, protected among other goods from sand storms and earthquakes. She assumed this from the few times she'd actually been allowed down there for chores- in the cellar that could only be accessed from outside the home.

"Ful mudammas, if that is what you will allow." the teen stated excitedly, as if trying to erase any hesitation or pretense.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Her heart writhed through the seconds, pleading that this worked. She had so few chances, so few plausible plans. Whatever guardian that may have watched over her, she pleaded that they be with her then.

Om stood stern and untouched, until at last, she grinned.

"Of course, my dear. Ful mudammas it is. You must know how much your brothers and sisters enjoy it. How thoughtful you are."

"You have raised me as such."

Om, clearly proud of her work, began opening the cabinets for pans and ingredients with light, fluttery steps. A tune warbled from her throat as she lit the match for the ancient stove. All she had to do was reach for the beans…

"And then we shall have baklava for dessert, yes banafsegy?"

"If it pleases you, then it pleases me." Pharah stole a quick glance at the door down the hall. She began her work of clearing off the table. After removing her elder siblings' tea mugs and schoolwork, Pharah made her way down the hall. _So close_. So very, very close to the exit, was the closet where all the dinner cushions resided. She had retrieved them more times than she could count, but this time the sight of the door made her mouth water. She had to be in position if she was going to pull this off. This time it felt too perfect, too extravagant for a house that didn't even have electricity. Her heart was rolling thunder with every whoosh of blood.

"Pharah?"

_Yes_. Pharah thought. Yes, this was it. It was really happening.

"Yes, Om Tawfiq?"

"I need to go outside for just a moment. It seems we've run out of beans in here. Continue setting the table, darling, and I shall return quickly for you. You will be alright?"

_I'll be more than alright. I'll be gone_.

"Yes, Om Tawfiq. Thank you for worrying about me."

Om rolled up her sleeves and strode effortlessly toward her adopted daughter. It almost seemed she had nothing more to fear. Pharah had been well taught. Brainwashed, even. She would never leave her. Never. She carefully undid every lock upon the door and the sound of it opening sent more chills through the air. There were locks on either side of the door; one side to keep intruders out, and the other to keep insiders in. Just as Om were about to step a foot outside, Pharah thought she'd play it up just a bit. Just to make the magic work, and to keep that door open for as long as possible.

"Wait. You won't be long, will you?"

"Oh, no, child. I couldn't bear to be parted from you for so long."

"Thank you. Forgive me, but I often find myself afraid when you or Baba leave me."

"No worries, love. I shall return within a minute." and she placed a kiss upon the teen's brow, tucked the sharp bangs behind her ear, and left. The door nearly closed. But Pharah's freedom was there saved by the tip of her shoe. She waited until she could hear the cellar doors stutter open. As soon as the sound moaned from behind the house, Pharah dived for the couch again. She pulled out a small bag of meager belongings; a brush, a change of socks, fruits, and her favorite history textbook. This she tossed over her shoulder as she tossed aside the door.

Surely the river would lead to somewhere or another. There wasn't any time to decide where she was headed, what her plan was. The first thing was to move. To run. Her window of time was closing. She had to breathe in every second, pray every heartbeat, dig her heels into rural Egypt's dirt before Om would have the slightest chance of catching up.

She'd never felt the way she had running towards the river, towards where she was meant to be. Finally there was air burrowing through her hair. There were mighty heaves of breath wakening her lungs. Her calves both cheered and sobbed with every long stroke. Not the sun hardening the temperature, nor the vultures ready and waiting could break the exhilaration with their laughter. She would prove them wrong. She wouldn't stop until the guardian above grew silent. And somehow she knew He wouldn't.

To think she might have been caught if only Om had checked behind the couch for that "missing" bag of fava beans…

* * *

"_**Reverse Trap **_**ensures **that all increases and decreases to attack or defense points are reversed for this turn. And since I summoned _Blizzard Princess_, you can not activate any trap or spell cards until the end of my turn! But by then it'll already be too late."

Gasps and murmurs were fluttered around the audience. It wasn't exactly a surprise who the winner would be, but still. The different ways she could conquer her opponents was what drew the crowd. Sometimes they ended with great feats of wit and cunning, and others were simple, menial things. What else could be expected of Seto Kaiba's daughter?

"Now, Princess, destroy his _White-Horned Dragon _and end this duel!"

"No!" her opponent let out a frustrated howl as his life points ticked to zero. A cheer overcame the Kaiba Dome. People began jumping up and down, shouting Minako's name like a cinematic war-cry. _Min-a-ko. Min-a-ko. Min-a-ko_. The risers came down and suddenly the duelists were back down to earth. Minako's pretzel guts quivered with every chant, with every applause. The spotlight she loved- that was for sure. She was well acquainted with cheers and crowds from her many cheerleading competitions and piano recitals, she'd even been dueling in tournaments since she could walk. But this time she loathed it. God, she really did. She wanted to put her hands over her ears, scream at the very top of her lungs. _They called her Minako._

She stood for a moment as if to catch herself, her attention hovering just over the floor.

"You did it!" came Haru. "That was just awesome!"

"Yeah. He didn't stand a chance." Mokuba pulled his niece towards him. Minako woke in his embrace. The scent of his cologne brought reality back in shades she didn't care to remember. She wanted to stay in his arms, let them shield her from all the noises that dared fill her head. The crunching of food, the clapping of hands, the conversations of the crowd. She tried to burrow deep into his scent.

"I want to go home, uncle." she whispered, a crack away from a sob. It didn't seem that Mokuba had heard, however, because he gave her a small shove away. A small enough shove to see past his shoulders and up towards one of the observatories where her father stood, arms across his chest, perched above the grandeur of the Kaiba Dome. He'd been watching. Her heart roared to life under his hawk-like gaze. It was the first she'd seen of him all month, and there she had dueled and stood beneath his judging looks all the while. At last he nodded. _An approval_.

She could breathe again.

Haru must have been talking the whole time because at so random a point, he smiled tenderly at her and spoke; "Isn't it great? Your dream is coming true, Minnie! Now you're one step closer to becoming the Queen of Games!"

Before she could put that practiced smile to use, the lamenting opponent returned for vengeance. Having lost the duel, there was no more shame in letting a few tears slide down his young, pallid cheeks. He gripped his deck closely to his heart and shouted for all the stadium to hear.

"You cheated! I don't know how, but you did! You had to have! No one beats Alex Hawkins!"

"I believe Minnie just did." snaps Mokuba. "I watched the duel from beginning to end and there wasn't a lick of cheating. I would have known."

"You stay out of this! This is between the girlie and me. I promised my parents I'd win this duel, that I'd beat you Kaiba snobs! I bet everything on this deck, on this moment. You don't understand. Now that you've beaten me, I've lost everything."

Minako cocked an eyebrow. "Well, that sounds like a personal problem, now doesn't it?"

"Tchk-! You- you! You're just like your father, Minako! Just like him!"

She stepped back abruptly.

There were three things which one did well to remember when addressing the heiress of Kaiba Corp: One was to never assume that she cared. More often than not, she didn't. Two; never, ever compare her to her father. That was a no-go zone. Bold, yellow _Do Not Cross - Crime Scene _tape. And third was to never, ever, _ever_ call her by her first name; Minako. Everyone addressed her as Minnie, Miss Kaiba, Goddess Divine, Cocky Rich-Bitch. Anything but Minako. It was the worst of all offences, the big red button that set her world aflame. Violators would sure as hell, by any means she found suitable, be prosecuted. Or, in other terms, have their asses handed to them on one of her expensive, golden dinner trays, and served by her personal chef and butlers.

"Enough of this." she growled. "I never play a lousy, cheating, lying game. I don't know who you think I am, but I am no cheater, nor am I anyone you should step up to. I don't care for any promises you've made to your loved ones or that you've so tragically lost what is dear to you. The fact is, you lost and I won- regardless of whatever motivated us to duel to our best abilities. Accept it like a true duelist, or weep some more like a baby. If your intention in accusing me of cheating was to humiliate me in front of all these fans, then just like your dueling skills, you have failed. Now you will leave my stadium before I have you removed without the slightest bit of dignity."

The crowd buzzed. The monstrous monitors displayed all around the Kaiba Dome projected every harpooning word spoken, every frightened tremor of the broken Alex Hawkins. The broadcasted tirade would sting from every television and every radio tuned into the dueling stations. Minako had no shame in harnessing the power of worldwide embarrassment. And clearly Alex would never forget that. He lowered his gaze immediately, gripping his deck tight into the skin of his palm. He walked out without another word, having been defeated not only in the duel, but crushed beneath Minako's blunt, unforgiving nature.

A spokesman pranced into the center of the stadium, sweating without any attempt to mask it. He urged a smile onto his face and a cheer in his voice, but it was still very clear to the world how nervous and unprepared he was. He had to do something to lighten the mood, though. Something to save his paycheck.

"And what a duel that was! Ladies and gentleman, there you have it! The winner of the Kaiba Corp's Seventh Annual Grand Prix, Minako Kaiba! Sit tight, folks, for the award ceremony will start momentarily! Now's your chance for a picture and autograph of your favorite duelists!"

The announcer called her Minako_. He called her Minako_. She boiled deep and relentlessly. Her cousin and uncle wore less of a proud smirk than she. Of all the Kaiba family, they were probably the most understanding and least glamorous. But still, Mokuba and Haru were there for Minako. They always have been and always would be. She turned to them, so ready to break down. But she couldn't. It was a reflex or a bleak inheritance that forbade her from presenting such emotions. Tears creaked in her throat. But she couldn't let them go; not in front of so many people, not while the Kaiba Corp logo taunted her everywhere she looked, not while her father's eyes were still prowling from the observatory.

"I want to go home, uncle." she said again.

"Wh-What? But what about the award ceremony? Don't you want-"

"No! I want to go home, uncle! Now!"

"Minnie, are you ok?" Haru approached.

"Of course! I… I've been getting migraines again, is all. And this crowd- the noise and lights are unbearable."

"Oh. You need me to come with you then?" Mokuba reached for her again.

"No. I just need to go home and rest. Besides, I'm sure my father misses you both _so_ much. He'd hate to lose a chance to see you."

Her long, chocolate hair struck like a viper as she whipped around towards the exit. She just couldn't seem to get away fast enough. The crowd just wouldn't go away. People wouldn't stop calling her by her full name. Smaller children- her fan club, no doubt- kept pointing her out to their parents and their friends. Neither of which she truly had. Where was the helicopter amongst the cloud of tears taunting her eyes? Where were the pilots, the landing pad, the way out of there? Even outside the Kaiba Dome, monitors recapping highlights of her duel shined throughout Kaiba Land. There was no where to escape to. Her feet would keep moving, but she'd never get far enough from anything to cry.

* * *

Yugi stretched out along the couch with his two boys. The smell of Tea's cooking detached them all from the TV once the duel was over. Lola Wheeler was the first one into the kitchen. She would offer to help carry in the food if only for the chance to pick the juiciest chicken pieces before it reached the table. Rowan Taylor, although the youngest by far, also joined the gang at the Muto house. He was a still a middle-schooler with his untamed red hair and brown-green eyes. He was as much a part of the gang as anyone else, though; and was Lola's cousin too.

"Dinner's ready, everyone!" called Tea. "Hurry up before Lola dogs it all again."

"Don't judge me. I am who I am." Lola's blonde curls bounced with her dramatized sobs.

Everyone else shoved off of the couch and filed into the dining room. There was no excuse- not even death- that Tea would ever accept for missing one of her home-cooked meals. You ate when she told you to, or you wouldn't eat at all. She had prided herself in being a loving wife and mother, and an amazing chef. Somehow everything just tasted better when she made it. Everyone could agree to that.

"Oh my gosh, Mrs. Muto." Rowan beamed with a mouthful of chicken. "You should just adopt me."

"That would just be easier, wouldn't it? You and Lola practically live here you visit so much."

"We can't help it. We're poor street folk. Y'all are so nice to be taking us in like this, feeding the hungry. Bless your souls." Lola joked like an old beggar woman, her plate half-cleared already.

"Oh, Lola. You eat like you've been starved on the streets, that's for sure. You sure are Joey's daughter. Doesn't he feed you?"

"Of course. Burger World all day, everyday. Then some Chinese food on the way back from the store, where we gotta pick up mad Doritos and devil-dogs and pies and curly fries and- yeah, we fill up that cart with mad goodies. I have no shame."

"And Mai allows you to eat like that?"

"Nah, chill. She would strangle my daddy if she found out. My mom come home, make me some good 'ol stir fry, though. Other than that, she's always at work." Lola looked down at her plate. It looked as though there had never been anything on it to begin with. She smiled from ear to ear and lifted her plate delightfully. "More, please?"

Tea shook her head with a smile. She couldn't refuse such a face- even if it resembled so much of Joey's.

"Anyways. Mom! You'll never guess what happened." Howard reaches into the conversation.

"Hmm… let me think. It has something to do with Duel Monsters?"

"Yup. Minnie Kaiba won the duel against Alex Hawkins! Ah, you should've seen it, mom. It was so intense! Alex almost had it! Almost!"

"What a shame. Although, it's not very surprising, I must say. I was rooting for Alex, if only out of respect for his mother, Rebecca Hawkins.

"Man, if only Alex hadn't sacrificed those two dragons, he wouldn't have lost it. Right, dad?" Carter turned to Yugi. His father was eased into the chair- a proper man with a gentle authority. Mr. Muto could see so much of himself in both of his sons, especially in their passion for Duel Monsters. He had reigned as the King of Games for more than two decades and it seemed younger duelists like that ruthless Minako Kaiba girl were hungry for his title. He had retired, although never beaten, moving over for a new generation of duelists.

Yugi shook his head. "At the time it seemed like a perfectly good idea. Sacrificing his two dragons allowed him to summon a monster that was even stronger. Minako could have took him out _turns _ago if he hadn't done that. Plus, he got to take a chunk of her life points with him. He was on the right track."

"Yeah, well, one time I thought doing a back-handspring off my bed was a perfectly good idea too. It was only when I woke up in the hospital that I realized that that was probably one of the most retarded ideas I have _ever _had." snickered Lola.

"True. While it was risky, it did show Minako a lot of her deck's weaknesses. Her deck is fire and ice. Mostly pyros and water spell casters. Instead of just relying on one general type of card, rotating between those elements makes her a powerful duelist and gives her a myriad of ways to win. But Alex was prepared for that. He came bearing landscape cards and traps that lessened the effects of both fire and ice. You could see Minako falter throughout the duel. And you're right, sacrificing his dragons did open up the chance for Minako to win, but she's certainly shaken up. I'll bet you she's going to change her deck up a little now."

"Hm? Why's that?"

"Because now that Alex has exposed her deck's weakness, the whole world knows it. She's going to do everything she can to patch up any holes. Maybe even try out a whole new type of deck."

"Great." Howard rolled his eyes. "Now she's going to have another slaughter-party at school. Every time she tries out new cards, she duels people in the courtyard to test out strategies. Everyone loses to her, of course. Except for Carter." the last part he mumbled between mouthfuls of rice. His brother kicked him beneath the table.

"Well, losing is not an option for her, you see. If I know her father, he's pushing her pretty hard to be the Queen of Games."

"Poor girl." sighed Tea.

"Poor girl?" Lola shrieks. "Poor girl? How could anyone feel sorry for that rich snob? Why, if she didn't wear so many necklaces and my hands weren't so tiny, I'd choke her out!"

"Lola Serenity Wheeler!" Tea eyed the teen daringly. "Do not shout like that, and that was incredibly mean to say."

"Mean? Talk about mean; remember what she did to my brother? Or did everyone forget I had one because he's only been in prison for so long? Oh, that girl. She better hope she don't find me in a dark alley. I'll bust her up."

"Lola, you-" Yugi couldn't finish his sentence. Everyone silenced, their forks and knives placed back on the table, when a knocking had rattled the air. It came again from the game shop door. The sign said closed, didn't it? Yugi could have sworn he switched it over before entering the home. He stood from the table and everyone eyed him out.

"Who could that be at this hour?" Tea went to follow.

The teens were left silent at the table until Carter swatted Lola's shoulder.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You can't talk like that in front of my mom. She acts like she's all smiles and butterflies, but you better hope you don't find _her_ in a dark alley. My mom will karate chop your neck. Just ask Howard, or even my dad."

"Sorry, bro. I just… ugh! I can't stand Minnie. After everything's she's done and she's still little miss perfect! I say we crash her sweet sixteen. I mean, everyone's gonna be there. It'll be the most humiliating thing ever!"

"How about let's not, and say we did."

"Yeah." Rowan added. "You always try to crash her parties, Lols. And, frankly, it never works out for us. Kaiba Corp security, plus guest-list check ins, and the crowds, and yeah, you know where I'm going with this."

"But c'mon, guys. Think of all the times she's been mean to you guys. So, that's basically everyday since you've started kindergarten. How great would it be to get back at her?"

"Look, we understand, Lola, but… that's just not right. I mean think about what my dad said. Minnie is pressured a lot by her father. We have no idea how hard her home life might be. Don't you think you could cut her some slack?"

Lola stared down at her plate. She suddenly wasn't so hungry anymore. Deep down she knew her friends were right. She knew an eye for an eye would make everyone go blind; and her father would be headless when Seto Kaiba were ever to find out. But she just couldn't shake away that night. That spring break. Jacob in handcuffs. The police lights flashing. The waves rolling over any pleas her brother had tried to make. It was all Minnie's fault. And she would never forgive her.

"No." Lola's chair moaned as she shoved herself away from the table. "No, you guys don't understand."

"Lola!" they all called after her. But it was too late. She had already scooped up her backpack and was huffing her way towards the door. The only blockade were the Mutos staring wide-eyed at the slender, Egyptian woman in the doorway whose razor blue eyes could cut with a wicked glance.

**End Chapter**

* * *

**Hey guys. thanks for reading. Review, if you'd like? Heehee.**

**Anyways, another chapter for "A Truth For Us" will be added tomorrow, and I will be updating "Finding Bra" as well for you guys. **

**My readers are amazing, love you all! **


	3. Mall Brawls & Puzzle Pieces

**Warning: A lot of foul language in this chapter.**

* * *

"**Ishizu!" Yugi exclaimed**. His wife came nearer to him, gently wrapping herself around his arm. For a moment the couple forgot their manners. For a moment they blinked at the image of Ishizu Ishtar standing in the doorway unannounced and just as mysterious as she had been fifteen years ago. It wasn't that they had any opposition to the woman, but more that her very presence was a symbol of its own. _What had happened now?_

Tea welcomed her into the living room while parades of thoughts and worries trickled deep throughout Yugi's mind. _Had the shadow games begun again? Was there some other Rare Hunter on the prowl? Was there news of his old friend, news from the other side? _Tea could see her husband's heart thumping in his violet eyes. For the couple had not seen or heard of any of the Ishtar family since the day Atem was freed from the puzzle. Yugi remembered how the pharaoh had stepped into the light of the afterlife. How that goodbye felt. The reality of his absence couldn't have been more harsh than when fifteen years later, Ishizu was sitting in his own living room with those same icy eyes of warning.

"Yugi. You must forgive me for my intrusion. I feared that announcing my arrival would have proved dangerous. There are many ears in my experience."

"Yes, of course. What is it, Ishizu? What's going on?"

"Let me be brief. I have come all this way to tell you that you must return to Egypt."

"What? B-But… I can't. I just got back from Cairo last week, Ishizu. I promised my family-"

"The Tawfiq family has been claiming dig sites around El-Minya."

That made his eyes bulge. Tea gripped her husband again, hoping it would help calm him. The Tawfiqs were trouble. Rich, influential thugs who took over high-ranking jobs throughout Egypt. Naguib Tawfiq, supposedly the lead figure of the family, kept ripe competition with Yugi in the archeological world. They'd butted heads more times than Yugi cared to remember. Still, nothing seemed right about the whole lot of them. They never found a single artifact, never really tried searching either, and yet Naguib had ended up a chief in the Department of Egyptian Antiquities. He was always trying to shut down Yugi's excavations for some reason or another. Losing the clearance to those lands, to the history he could find there, could be devastating. But the fact that this all had suddenly concerned Ishizu meant it was probably bigger than Yugi's financial predicaments.

All the while, Lola had been listening from the downstairs bathroom. In her anger, she had stumbled into something quite serious, especially if it had her god-parents spooked. With the door open a crack, she tried cupping her hand over her mouth to silence herself completely. There was no way out now. After hearing that name- _Tawfiq_- she just had to listen in. There was something that teased her in the way the name stuck out. Like she had heard it before. She quickly ran over in her head all the possible faces that name could belong to. Perhaps an actor in some movie, an answer to a quiz she certainly hadn't studied for, the badge of the police officer who arrested her brother. No… someplace else.

"And what does that mean for you?" asked Tea. "The Tawfiqs have been trying to steal Yugi's dig sites for years. We'll just report it to the authorities again. How is this time any different?"

"You don't understand. Almost everything in Egypt is ruled by reputation, and powered by people's connections to one another. You think the President of Antiquities wants people to know some thug is working for such an esteemed organization? He'll deny it all again, just as he has for years. Believe me, the Tawfiq family has plenty of _baksheesh_ to keep the authorities quiet. Corruption is as common as a sneeze these days. Why else do you think this is a recurring problem?"

"Can't argue with that." Yugi rubs his head without answers.

"But that is not why I am here. You see, El-Minya is quite near to where we believe the Tawfiq's secret bases are; where they print counterfeit Duel Monster cards and sell them, where they store goods and weapons, and house their captives. If you were to visit the Tawfiq mansion in Alexandria, you'd find nothing of the criminal sort. That is what they want. My brother and I have been trying to find their _real _homes for years now, but to no avail I'm afraid. Listen here. I will warn you that the Tawfiqs not only want the areas near El-Minya, but intend on expanding these 'excavations' all the way to the red-lands and to the cities surrounding. These people never dig for history. No one will deny that but for those with money under their noses. The fact that they are so spread out, 'digging for artifacts' as they call it, can only mean one thing."

She did not wait for anyone's reply.

"They are not digging. They are searching. The girl. The Pharaoh's daughter. She must have escaped."

* * *

**After just three **days, gossip over Minako and Alex's duel had quieted. All she wanted was to shop in peace. Only a few people at the mall showed any real acknowledgement of Minako's presence. One _Charlotte Russe _cashier's eyes twinkled maniacally when Minako went to pay. Another one in _Hollister_ snuck a photo of her going through the clothes racks. The food court was a bit more frightening; bigger crowds, less chance of an escape. Hopefully her public slaying of Alex Hawkins had intimidated the masses enough to leave her alone.

She never thought the day would come when she would tire of fans treating her like an overrated movie star on the red carpet. In fact, that was exactly what being a top-ranking duelist was like. They were the new star athletes; always on the news, always some TV show host asking for an interview, always a fan shoving a paper in their face, begging them to sign. A day at the mall with her friends seemed like a lot to ask for those days. And it was surprisingly going along without too much trouble, so long as no one asked for a picture with her or, more importantly, called her out as Minako. Not that name. Anything but that name.

She was the center of her runway-ready pack. The bright, fierce sun that all the other high-heeled, purse swaying planets revolved around. Each of her friends had a name and face, and that was basically it. Walking through the mall together, laughing, gossiping, made them appear like the close-knit friends people read about in books. They were a giggling cluster of blondes, brunettes, and redheads, each one radiating overpriced perfumes, shooting off beams from their jewelry, their lips perfectly painted and eyelashes seductively curled. They were the elite of Domino High, though none more so than Minako. But in the end, their friendship came down to one thing: they'd paint each other's nails, get ready for parties together, back each other up in the daily drama, so long as Minako had her father's credit card.

"Oh my God, Dagan Devlin. Oh! That boy could get it any day." one of the girls called out excitedly.

"Wouldn't that be awkward if he was, like, standing right behind us when you said that?"

"Not even. He already knows he's hot, so he's used to it. I'd turn around and be like 'aye, boy. Do you believe in love at first sight? Or do you need me to walk by again?'"

A frenzy of laughter followed the redhead's public shimmying. Yet Minako was silent. Her eyes were hard, although lost in flight. The rainbow of shopping bags in her hands suddenly felt weightless, useless. The talk of her showy duel with Alex may have ceased, but the floating, empty feeling in her gut had not. She continued walking without much purpose. And, as per usual, none of her "friends" noticed how close she was to the edge of nothingness.

"Hey! Did you pick the theme to your Sweet Sixteen yet, Min? Tell me it's pink!"

"Uh- no. Not yet."

"So long as it's not Duel Monsters again. Ugh. I'm sorry, that was so lame."

"Ana, that was, like, in the fourth grade. You know damn well it was the coolest thing back then." Minnie flung a piece of hair from her face. How dare her friends try to dump on her past parties. "Besides, this is my Sweet Sixteen. Of course it's not going to be childish. This is huge. Huger than huge! Theme is everything."

"That's what I said. So, do you have any ideas so far?"

"You should do a princess themed party! And you could, like, wear a tiara and have this graceful entrance from a carriage. I think that'd be so cute!"

Minako rolled her eyes. "Because _that's _never been done before. No. I want something new. Something… meaningful. I mean, I'm only going to turn sixteen once. This is a major milestone in my life. Really, it's going to be all or nothing. I don't want it to be some cliché, boozy party where we all just get shit-faced and call it a day."

"What? That's the best part, though."

"Yeah, for like a prom after party or homecoming game. Not my sweet sixteen. I want it to be somewhat classy, you know. Plus, regardless of my relationship with my father, I'm still a face of Kaiba Corporation. If I get caught with a drink in my hand or grinding on the dance floor, even _if_ it's with Dagan Devlin, I'm done. _Hello_? A Kaiba Corp party giving alcohol to minors? I don't think so. Everything I do reflects my father and his company. And you know there will be cameras at _my_ party. Only a couple hundred people are coming. Think about it: would you rather have one sober party, _or_ never come shopping with me again?"

"I like the sober party idea."

"Yeah, that sounds pretty cool."

"I wouldn't mind remembering who I danced with the next day. Sounds good to me."

"That's what I thought, bitches." though, deep down, Minako had secretly wished they'd chosen otherwise. She waved the credit card again in front of their faces. The girls were practically drooling over the untold riches it held. The fate of every future shopping spree was contained in that small, plastic card. And Minako wielded it mightily.

"Whoa, whoa. Hold up." one of the girls said, tearing away from the trance of the credit card. "Speaking of bitches. Check it out."

Everyone followed her gaze to the store just across from them.

"What the hell? Is that… _Wheeler_?" it was no question. Just the sound of her name signaled a war within Minako.

"Oh, shit, Minnie. It's your best friend; Squealy-Wheely. Of course she's shopping at the bargain bins. Do you think she can find a pair of hand-me down granny sweaters to go with that fugly green vest?"

Jacob. That was the first thing that came to Minako's mind when she saw young Lola Wheeler across from her. His caramel eyes. His free, blonde hair. He would always give her that look at school; the one where he stared down at her, sometimes distantly, other times curiously. He was older than her. Three years to be exact. But sometimes it felt like much more because he was so dangerous. The whole situation was. It was opportune. Rage never burned like that before. Why did she do it? Why was _he_ her deepest, darkest secret?

Her friends were already entering the bargain store before she could give any type of commands. Nothing ever happened without her permission. Perhaps she was losing her touch, because the band of girls were trooping towards their victim without her.

"Oh, look," said the blonde, inching closer to Lola as she snickered, "_Goodwill _couture. I haven't seen anything this fashionable since digging through my great-grandmother's photos."

"Trés chic." Minako's normal, condescending voice sliced in from behind. The others turned as if to recognize that their leader had returned. No more of that goody-two-shoes crap. She had regained that sinister spark. That superiority she was raised in. Six against one with her as the ring leader? It was almost a rush. Almost. The rest of it was the fear of not being feared. She didn't want to lose her power, and this would prove that she still had it. Besides, Lola had to pay.

Lola gave a quick look of disdain. _Not today. Not now_. She sizzled in silence.

"Oh, hey there, Lola. I didn't see you there." Minnie joined her at the bin of donated clothing.

"You mean you don't have Lola-seeking missiles in your body that report back to mission-control? Damn. And all this time I thought I was a permanent red spot on your radar. You must be a _complete_ bitch then, not just to me. What a funny world."

"Wow. That was almost hurtful, Squealy-Wheely. I guess it's a good thing everything you say means shit to me, otherwise I'd be in tears."

"If only. Now what do you want from me, Minnie?"

"Why, your opinion, of course. I mean, you _are_ the best bargain-bin shopper I know."- she pulled two shirts from out of the bin and held them up against herself- "Which of these shirts do you think looks better on me?"

"The ugly one. That way it matches your face."

Minako's pack of wild girls let out a shrill laugh. They were hyenas masked by Dolce & Gabbana and Chanel. Lola felt completely ambushed. She was outnumbered, outgunned, and locked within the gas-chamber of perfumes. And Minako would not take likely to anyone who stood up to her. She tossed the hanger and shirt into Lola's face while the others cackled some more. Lola stepped back abruptly, the hanger nicking her in the forehead and leaving a small cut. She despised every molecule that made up Minako's being. If this was how Miss Perfect-Princess-Kaiba wanted to play, then Lola would not disappoint. It they had been at war their whole lives, then this was D-Day.

Everything she had buried deep inside was surging out through her first. Lola came at her again, swing after swing after swing. The covenant of popular girls began to dance madly in a circle around the flames of violence. They chanted, incanting and imploring Minako to "fight back", "push her off", "fight that hoe". And Minako did. She grabbed at Lola's thick blonde curls and tugged her to the mall's floor. She almost tripped over Lola as she did. She then pounced upon her prey. It was her turn to dominate. She straddled Lola, landing knuckle-throbbing punch after punch upon Lola's skull and defending elbows.

Meanwhile the crowd had doubled in size. People were shouting all around, but neither brawling girl could hear much past their own grunts and insults. Camera phones sprung to life at the action. Soon everyone would know. It would be all over Twitter and Youtube. "_Kaiba Girl, Runner-Up Duel Monsters Champion, In Violent Mall Catfight_". Minako didn't care. For the time ever, she just didn't care. Every time she could land a hit on that pathetic Wheeler, it was like she could beat her guilt away. She couldn't feel sad about any of it. Only anger. That horrid, stinging, blazing anger that forced her to declare the war between her and Lola in the first place. That's what made her punches harder, her breath quicker, and her words meaner. Of course Lola deserved to be beaten in public. Of course Jacob deserved to rot in jail. Of course Minako never made that mistake. Everything she'd been mad about, she would loathe Lola for. And it felt as good as the blood running over her knuckles.

Lola reached up in a moment between Minako's punches. She grappled the skinny neck of the Kaiba heiress and dug her claws in. How could that spoiled rich brat be on top of her? The embarrassment of her subordinate position propelled her enough into tossing Minako off of her and into the rack of sexy leopard print panties. She pushed off the floor before the rich girl could. And just as she were about to hack into the bitch with her Converse sneakers, arms were snaking around her and pulling her away. Security had picked away the crowd and nabbed the two girls before they could realize what was happening. The girls struggled against the mall cops; strangely, Minako more than Lola.

Lola was used to the pull of authorities after a scrap. The pending parent-notifications that followed and possible Juvie time. It was a most familiar occurrence. Community service wasn't such a bad option, either. But Minako- Little Miss Perfect- was fighting them more out of fear than of a blood-thirst driven hostility. She, in fact, had _everything _to lose.

"Lola, you stupid bitch! I hate you! I fucking hate you!" she swore. And no matter how she tried to convince herself it was Lola she hated, she couldn't break the feeling that she was yelling at herself. "Just you wait, Lola! Just you fucking wait until my father hears about this!"

"Oh, you're a bad bitch now! Getting' your daddy to fight for you? What's your father gonna do, eh? He can suck this dick, I don't give a fuck! I gotta daddy too and he'll give your papa the one-two, bitch!"

"Go back to Brooklyn, you ghetto-ass hoe! You are not as tough as you think you are, that's why your blood is on _my_ hands!"

"Oh, step up to me! You 'aint nothing without your posse or your daddy's credit card. You thinking you're some bad bitch, you 'aint shit! You are nothing, Minako Kaiba! Nothing, you hear me? And you know damn well Jacob always felt the same! He hated you, and you still tried to get with him! When will you get it though your stupid-ass, desperate, home-wrecking head? _No one _likes you!"

The security officers finally won over Lola's strength; "Alright, that's enough, ladies."

The two were carried to opposite detention rooms deep into the lesser known abysses of the mall. There they would wait for their parents, and for the truth to sink in.

* * *

**Pharah never rea**l**ly** had a sense of time. She knew the sun went up, and the sun went down. But even that felt like a year- sometimes two. There was never really any need to schedule things or learn to tell time, for that matter. Om and Baba handled everything. They knew when it was time to get up in the morning, when it was time to go to bed. They knew when it was time to start cooking, when Baba would be back from work or for how long he or the other children would be gone. To Pharah, time itself was almost meaningless. The hour would not change the fact that she would still be locked in the house, the date would not matter because she would not have had a party to go to or a show to watch.

If the days felt long then, they certainly sung of eternity now. Because now on the run, time mattered. It mattered whether she'd be able to find a shelter before dark, or for how long she could travel the desert by day. She decided on staying close to the river. There were hills on either side of the river that made hiding from boats a little easier. She trekked the line of rocks and boulders that formed the edge of the hill. Whenever a wandering sailor came near, she'd duck behind a boulder or slip far enough on the other side of the hill that she could be concealed. Most were simple fishermen trying to make end's meet. Sometimes they'd light up a catch right on the bank, and the smell would ache in her stomach. But she couldn't take the chance of being seen. The Tawfiq family was great in number as in reputation. If those fishermen weren't related to Om or Baba, then they certainly knew of the family. She'd be returned as quickly as she had escaped.

The fruits she had so hurriedly packed were almost gone. A few slivers of dates and a half-eaten pomegranate was all that was left. She found herself a small tree to nest under and hide her from the setting sun. The exhilaration she had once felt in those first steps outside the Tawfiq home had diminished into sore muscles. The sun had set at least six times, and risen seven, and yet it still felt that she hadn't made it anywhere. She walked along the river for so long and saw only more river, more rocks, more nothing. A part of her wished to return home. To Om and to Baba, to all her brothers and sisters. At least there she wouldn't have to worry about starving to death or dehydrating.

Then she thought of poor Om. How she would feel when she'd walked into the house and Pharah was not there. She could see the woman's eyes shattered by tears or panic, her scrambling up and down the stairs to find her. Of course, Pharah knew that she'd return to Om someday. She couldn't leave her adoptive mother behind, especially not without saying goodbye. Maybe after she'd seen the world, she'd grow tired and realize that she never should have left. She'd miss Om and Baba so much that she'd run all the way back home and hug them tightly, crying that'd she'd never leave them again. Yes. That's how it would be. And they would hug their crazy-haired daughter and welcome her home, their hearts fixed by her return. Or maybe she'd find some job, become rich and famous, and afford to have them move out and live in luxuriously with her. Pharah could not hate them, nor did she want to. They were the only parents she'd ever known and they weren't so bad now that she thought about it.

Pharah sighed and eased herself against the tree trunk, reclining as much as it comfortably allowed, and pulled her textbook from her bag. It was her only clue to find a real freedom. This time she would read the chapter on the Amarna period of Ancient Egypt. The thing about living with the Tawfiqs is that it was a life of total seclusion. They never so much as revealed to her the country she lived in; _that_ she had to figure out on her own. After skimming through the textbook and remembering everything she had grown up with- the foods, the language, the customs- she was able to deduce that she was in Egypt. The river that guided her was the Nile, and from the direction it flowed, she knew she was traveling north. For now, all she could do was keep on moving and learn as much as possible about the land.

One thing Pharah knew for sure was that something was missing. A puzzle whose pieces had long since been chewed up and lost. The Tawfiqs had hidden her away from many things in life. Was it because they'd wanted to protect her? And more and more she began to wonder why. She had once believed that that was how life was supposed to be. There wasn't something beyond the river. But as she learned about history, about languages from around the world, and dances, and foreign music, she had to wonder where they all came form. It all couldn't have been invented under the Tawfiq's roof, could it?

She took a bite into the date and let the thoughts tangle with the text. None of it felt right. Om was supposed to be her adoptive mother. So why did she hide so much of the world from her? Or, more accurately, why was she hidden from the world? For instance, until her escape, she'd never been allowed to learn about Ancient Egypt. Om made that perfectly clear and it was one of the biggest rules of the household. It was a sin, said Baba. Pharah would see hell if she sought out the legends of Ancient Egypt. It was always forbidden. It was "rubbish fairytales", as Om had called it. "A waste of learning since none of it was true". What could have been so sinful about their country's past? But what she cared for more, was why her name was spelt so much like their ancient kings.

A smile tickled her face. In the back of the book, she did her very-best, masterpiece stick figure art. It was she, capped by the psehent crown of Egypt. Pharah the Pharaoh. And then she shoved everything away, back into the back, and continued on down the river. One day, it would lead to something, some where, some day.


	4. When The Ball Starts Rolling

"**So, did mom **make anything for dinner?" Lola began cautiously. Her father, stern at the wheel, said nothing. Lola waited in silence; the palpable dread that suffocated her in the car's confined space. At first she tapped her thumbs, still longing for a reply that would shatter the seething stillness. She looked from nook to cranny, top to bottom. She needed something to distract her. Which was odd, she thought. For any other time, distraction came as easy as an untimely squirrel crossing the street. It happened during tests, and conversation, shopping, and even Duel Monsters. But now she struggled to find some laconic matter that needed her quick attending to. She needed a reason to leave her focus and her entangling thoughts. Yet none would come.

"Ok, well, I found some really cute shoes on sale?"

"Lola, you can't keep doing this." Joey finally spoke. Lola stiffened with a saddened rigor.

"I love that you stand up for what you believe in; you _should _do that. I'm proud that you don't let anyone take advantage of you or bully you. You're a strong, confident, beautiful girl. And I'm not saying those Kaibas don't need a good punch in the face now in then. But…"

Disciplining his daughter was hard. Joey faltered immensely with that. Jacob he could ground and punish. Guy to guy chats seemed to sail smoother. Faster even. But not Lola. Not his baby girl. He usually left that up to his wife. As much as he could understand where his daughter was coming from, a responsibility that had sprouted the day he became a father wouldn't let him go. The adulthood in his heart still hadn't felt much like home. He couldn't tell Lola she was right no matter how much he wanted her to be. He couldn't say 'good job, kiddo' they way he normally would. It wasn't like it used to be. Lola got paint on Minako's dress in the first grade? No problem. Lola stuck gum in Minako's hair on their fourth grade field trip? He could deal with that. Lola beat up the wealthiest, most famous, lawyer-backed girl in the world? Different story.

"But nothing!" Lola snapped. "Dad, she started it! I had no idea she was even at the mall. She and her group of skinny hags came up to me in Goodwill and started making fun of me because I can't afford their _designer labels_!" she mimicked their nasally voices, "Minnie was totally asking for it! She threw a hanger at my head and laughed. I wasn't just going to stand there and take it. What else could I have done?"

"Walked away, called me, report to mall security-"

"Oh, and look like a tattle-taling baby who can't fend for herself? Yeah, sure. Ok. As if _you_ wouldn't have done the same as me."

"Lola, violence isn't always the answer. Or, at least, that's what I think I'm supposed to say." Joey chuckled, turning the car into the driveway. He couldn't deny it. Lola was right. He would have done the same thing if it were him and Seto back in the day. The thought of landing one in his smug, arrogant, money-making face was more than satisfying. But was he supposed to tell Lola she did a good thing or a bad thing?

His laughter immediately shed light. Lola could finally ease up, seeing as her father wasn't all as angry as he'd tried to make it seem. Her father was a relatively laid-back person who detested any real reprimand for his kids. He preferred that they learn from their own mistakes, make them feel guilty and come to their senses without making it worse. Disappointing him of all people would have spelt tragedy for Lola. It was her greatest fear after seeing her brother put away for a crime she knew he didn't commit. Lola wouldn't- _couldn't_- let her father lose both of his children. She'd never forgive herself. Every time she came near to the law, she was closer to disappointing both her father and her mother- to losing them. And that's where Joey's rather stealthy, unintentional parenting came in. Lola punished herself.

"I'm sorry, dad." she said. "I… I just… get so mad, you know? Why does she have to make everything worse? She already took away Jacob, why does she keep torturing me?"

"Is that what this is about? Jake?"

"You know he didn't do it, dad. You _know_ he didn't."

"Yes, I know. But we can't change what the judge said. He'll be out in three years and then-"

"In three years! Dad, that's too long! Nothing will change even then. Minnie will still find a way to ruin my life. She's good at those kinds of things."

"And so you think someone has to teach her lesson?"

"Yeah!"

"And you're that person? Beating her in the mall in a way where you could just as easily be arrested for something you actually _did_ do? Is that how you're going to show her? Because you know those rich kids and their lawyers. She's going to keep on doing what she does while you go to prison with your brother. You know what that'll do to your mother?"

"Well, that's not what I mean, but…"

"But that's what you did. Lola, you risk a lot more than she does every time you make a bad decision. She doesn't realize it and I don't think you do either. She may lose her money, but you could very well lose your family."

"I know, but _someone_ has to teach her a lesson. Maybe me, maybe not. She shouldn't be aloud to walk over everyone! If it weren't for her father, she'd be a nothing! A no one! And then she'd have to shop at cheap stores and be bullied by people and have to work hard like everyone else!"

"I understand that more than you know, Lollipop. I wanted Seto Kaiba to fall off the face of the earth. I wanted to take him out myself every time I saw that condescending, rich-boy smile. But I didn't."

"Why not?"

"Because there's something about those Kaibas. The only ones who can teach them anything are themselves. Only another Kaiba can get through to a Kaiba. So you can punch them as much as you want, but it's not going to change anything. You're an outsider to them. Your opinion won't matter until suddenly you have something of value to them."

Lola's eyes sparked. Her father wasn't always a clever man, but this information was useful. Very, very useful.

"Really? What do they value?"

"Each ones a little bit different. Mokuba is a generally caring dude. His highest value, of course, is family. Ain't you notice how its always Mokuba Kaiba cheering Minako on and not Seto? He cares about his brother, his son, and his niece, and wants to make them each happy more than anything. Seto Kaiba is more about the money and how to get things his way. He definitely cares about Mokuba, and I'm assuming her cares for his own daughter and nephew. But who am I to judge that? They're all messed up. Haru is apparently a genius and cares about networking. He's too shy and reserved for anyone to know what's going on his head."

"What about Minnie?" she blurted.

"Well, I can't say I know everything about her. But it's obvious she cares about reputation. How the public sees her is how the public sees Kaiba Corp as a whole, and her father as a whole. Seeing as there is little else interaction between the two, it's probably what holds the bond between her and Seto. I mean, how are you going to be the head of a gaming cooperation with a family of losers? Everyone knows Seto lost to Yugi- not just once, not just twice, but only a billion times. Ah, those were good times. Seto's next move is to raise Minako to be the undefeated Queen of Games since he couldn't be."

"Aw. Ain't that a shame. Now, as a totally unrelated topic, um… say Minnie loses a duel. Tragically. Um, would that necessarily mean that her life is now, you know, 'ruined' per se? Her father would hate her, her friends would hate, her fans would hate her?"

"Sounds about right."

"Ah. 'K then. Good to know."

Joey gave his daughter a small shove. "I see those evil wheels turning in your head. C'mon, stop before you hurt your brain."

"Ha-ha. You're _so_ funny. And all that psychological analyzing of the Kaiba family; Yugi and Tea told you all that, didn't they?"

"What? Are you saying I'm not smart enough to see these things myself?"

"You said it, dad. Not me." laughed Lola.

"Oh, ok. Well, I'll make sure your mother doesn't feed you tonight, 'cause you know how she loves a good punishment. And I heard she was making pork chops and potatoes tonight. Just to let you know what you're up against."

"Oh, I am fortune's fool! Say no more, for I require these pork chops in my belly!" she flung herself out of the car more than dramatically. All the way up the steps and even into the entrance of her home, she paraded herself like an actress across a screen. "Be merciful, parents! Say 'death', for a night without pork chops has more terror in its eyes than death. But do not say 'a night without food'. There is no world without my mother's cooking!"

"Dinner and a Broadway show. Lola's definitely home." Mai shook her head.

* * *

"**Two weeks!" snapped **Naguib. "Two weeks and not a trace of her? I don't pay you to sit around. Get moving! I don't care if you find a vulture-picked body, you find her!"

He slammed the phone shut. Around his office, the eyes of his wife and children waited for instruction. They'd been over the plans for years, but never actually thought the impossible would happen. Pharah wasn't supposed to escape. They could run drills as much as they wanted, but nothing had prepared them for the real deal. Naguib pinched the bridge of his nose and sealed his eyes shut. His other hand gripped into the bureau with a fierce hand his children had felt too much of. They all waited for him to catch his breath before they themselves could exhale. Nothing happened without Naguib's saying so.

"Abdullah, Faisal." he snipped the names of the second and third eldest sons. They straightened with attention. "Go to your brother in America. Tell him the news and do not, under any circumstances, use the telephone to call here. Use the coming festival of Eid al-Fitr if anyone asks why you left Egypt to see your brother so quickly."

"Yes, Baba." they accepted without question.

"Husniyah, my wife, return to the base. I'll need you there just in case Pharah decides to return home. I will send for you if there is any news."

"Yes. I understand."

Naguib's shoulders sank. Husniyah came around to massage them once he spilled himself into the leather master's chair. It had always been a fear that Pharah would escape, but never quite so real. He supposed that as long as she remained in Egypt, Pharah wouldn't pose much of a threat. There he had strings to pull and weight to swing around. Even if she somehow had made it to Sudan, Libya, or Saudi Arabia, he still had influences there. She couldn't have gotten too far. Not even with the two weeks lead. She was on foot, probably running low on provisions, with no idea who or where she was. And if that was the case, Pharah would soon be dead.

"Should have killed her in the first place." his lips mouth around a cigar. Husniyah lit it for him, her eyes refusing to meet his gaze. She knew he'd been accusing her just in the way he'd spoken so decidedly. He puffed. If Pharah was simply killed as a tot, he could have saved so many resources. So much time. He could have seen his wife more. He wouldn't have been dealing with her escape. It was all so unnecessary.

"Baba! Baba!" a daughter rapped upon his door.

"Malia? Come in, come in, child. Why do you intrude with such abhorred manners? Are you a baboon or are you my daughter?"

"Baba, please forgive me. I did not mean to be rude. I shame you." Malia, with all the presence of a mouse, pressed the door closed behind her. She bowed her head first to her father and then to her mother. Her knees shook with the secrets she knew.

"Yes, yes. Why have you come at a time like this? You know the fragile circumstances we're in in now." Naguib breathed another cloud of tobacco into the air.

"Yes, Baba. Yet this is most urgent. I'd be ashamed not to let you know sooner. It appears that Professor Yugi Muto has returned to his dig sites in El-Minya."

"What?" this was no question. Naguib pulled the cigar from his mouth and broke it under a thundering fist upon the bureau. His wife leapt back into the bookshelves and Malia shrieked before him. His fury was not to be considered mildly. He flung an antique clock from his desk to the wall just beside Malia's head.

"How could this be? He was not to return until summer!"

"Perhaps an emergency at the site, or he'd had a change in plans."

"No. No. No. It is too much of a coincidence. Not El-Minya. Professor Muto has many dig sites in Egypt, why does he return to El-Minya of all places, of all times? Him! Yugi Muto! If Pharah were to see him- no! If _he_ were to see _Pharah_, he'd know! He'd take her back with him. We'll be ruined!"

"My dear, listen. What are the odds that he'd find her? If at all that he knows she exists. Perhaps he won't notice a thing, love." Husniyah tried to reason.

"No. He has to know. If those demonizing Ishtars know, then he knows. Even if he doesn't, seeing Pharah would be all the confirmation he needs. Those purple eyes. Her sandy skin. That hair! Everything about her screams of the ancient Pharaoh Atem and Priestess Mana. He wrote a book on his archeological findings and the pharaoh, I highly doubt that he'd miss the connection- and even more so when considering their history together."

"You're right. We need a plan."

"Malia," Naguib brushed a stressful hand through his hair, "take your remaining brothers and sisters. Your cousins and uncles too. Go to El-Minya and find that girl. Search the cities around, the desert, scout all along the river. Search Cairo if you must. I want planes in the air, and boats in the river. I will worry about Mr. Muto. He and I shall have another long chat about shutting down his digs."

"Yes, Baba." Malia made her way quickly out the door. Perhaps more to escape her father than to enact his demands.

"Husniyah, I have a change in plans for you, my love. I want you to wait at the mansion in Alexandria instead. Do not do anything until I give the command."

"Yes, Naguib."

* * *

**More people were **looking for her. She could feel it. She had to keep moving, keep running. But all her legs wanted to do was rest. They sobbed every damn time she stood again. Even she began to wonder if she should quit. There would be food and water at the Tawfiq home. It always smelt like spices in the kitchen, sometimes sweet bread and falafels. Leftover koushari. The taste of it snidely sung in her mouth. Her stomach hummed the bass. Oh, and her bed. Sure it was just a cot on the floor, but compared to the bitter riverbanks and papyrus beds she'd made, it was a cloud in the heavens.

Eventually she fell. She knew she had to go on, but her legs wouldn't take another step. Her knees slid into the clay earth, her bag fell from her shoulder. All at once she could feel herself collapsing into nothing. Pharah, with every bit of her last strength reserves, managed to pull herself further from the waters and into a thick patch of grasses. At least she wasn't as exposed to God-Knows-Who. The Tawfiq family and friends were as commonplace as the bugs around the river.

She placed the bag beneath her head, her eyes slowly drooping. There was a voice from somewhere in the distance. _Pharah, get up. Pharah, move_. It was the voice that had urged her to run out of that house, the voice that whispered in the river. It told her where, it told her when. Sometimes she distinctly heard a male's voice from somewhere deep within the breezes. Other times a tender, whimsical female voice came to her in her sleep. But now it was both of them. _Pharah, you have to keep going. Pharah, you must_. For a moment, she just didn't want to care. She didn't want to dream. She wanted to sleep, sleep, sleep. Her body begged for a rest. Eventually the voices became softer and softer. Her lids were weak and tired, her vision wiggled and waved. Perhaps, for just a moment, she could pretend her escape was all but a dream, and that blackness behind her lids meant everything was always nothing.

**Something shattered to **pieces. Glass sprinkled the ground not so far from Pharah's hiding place. It woke her almost instantly. Then there were footsteps; unorganized and sporadic. Mumbles of equal obscurity followed. Pharah poked her head just above the grass that concealed her. At first her tired vision brought her nothing but images of the sky's first blue shadows. Then she studied the scene more. A few meters down the river, two men shared an early-morning beer. They'd been walking towards her, seemingly without purpose. She slid her bag onto her back again and crouched, ready to leap out and run at any moment's notice. A heavy pulse bounced along her veins.

"I know, man." one of the boys coughed. "She said she was going to be here."

"H-How'd she say it? Like was she all 'yeah, sure, I'll be there', or was she like 'count me in'. 'Cause you know girls. They have this habit of thinking things through."

"Not sex. They don't think that through."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause! Kamilah? She probably doesn't want to show because I fucked her last Friday. Now she's scared 'cause that was her virginity. I said she was cute so she dropped her panties. Now she apparently doesn't want to get drunk before school? Fuck that then, I'll get another bitch to do it."

"Bitches missing out. Next time we go to school high as shit, man."

"You're on."

Their slurring voices made Pharah cringe behind the grass. She'd only ever seen someone drunk once before. It was Faisal, one of her elder brothers. She and Om had to clean him up in the bathroom and hold him down when he thought he could drink even more. He didn't make a bit of sense, but perhaps it was because Faisal was talking about the outside world. Things Pharah wouldn't have understood had he been sober.

She couldn't decide whether their intoxication was an asset or liability. She sat for a moment, all the possibilities rummaging through her head. On one hand, they could be like Faisal. Uncooperative, even violent. They could make a scene and the Tawfiqs would have her before she'd see the sun wash over the horizon. On the other hand, perhaps she could just slip by them. Maybe she could even trick them into giving her directions. But it wasn't like life would give her the option. Before she could do anything, a great pain hurdled through her body. Her flesh thrummed and erupted at her ankle. Her pulse, her breathing, every move she made became lightning. She wailed a scream that sent the birds in the neighboring trees far, far away.

If the boys hadn't noticed her before, they certainly had now. Even their inebriated reflexes could spot her in an instant. Pharah reached for her ankle. It had already doubled in size and turned a bright, bright red. Her breath trembled with shock. She wanted to vomit. And as she heaved over, her eyes met her attacker's. A scorpion, poised to strike again, throwing a tantrum near her foot. It fidgeted and whined like an angry neighbor, and Pharah was not brave enough to tempt its fury again.

"Hey, you!" one of the boys called. Pharah stood again now that her stomach was entirely emptied. Now she had to move. Now she had to run. She shouldn't have let herself fall asleep. Anger pressed her out of the bushes and sent her running. Why couldn't things have just come easy? Why was this all happening to her? Her ankle scorched every time her foot met the ground. Jumping over rocks felt more like jumping into the mouth of a crocodile.

"Hold up, hot stuff! Where do you think you're going?"

She heard them come after her. Their feet sounded much faster than hers, yet she was too frightened to look back. She hobbled and hopped; the gazelle clambering away from the lions. The pain cleaving to her ankle had conquered her whole leg. On top of being sore and hungry, the scorpion's sting endorsed a compunctious flow of maladies. She shouldn't have slept. She shouldn't have stopped. She should have listened, kept going. Maybe she shouldn't have left at all.

Her elbows plowed into the ground in her fall. Her leg began to seize and her heart began to stutter. She couldn't get up! This was the end! Her dream of escape, of freedom and self-worth was nothing but a nightmare. The boys reached her not shortly after her face scrapped a rock. They took her by the wrists and stood her up, looking her over in inspection. Pharah swallowed a whimper of pain, trying to cover herself in any way possible. Om had told her about men like this. About "outside" men. They'd only want her body. They'd only rape her, impregnate her, leave her to have another doorstep baby. Just like her parents.

"Do you even go to our school?" one asked goofily.

"N-No." she spoke. Her first conversation with an outsider and it was to save her virginity, and maybe even her life. It wasn't exactly how she planned it.

"You got a name, gorgeous?"

"Ph-Pharah. My name is Pharah. Can you tell me where I am?"

"Ha! You hear that, Amr? She's lost."

Amr, apparently his name was, came around in front of her. His smile was filled with yellowed, serrated teeth like a demon's. The way he cupped her chin, slipped her blonde bangs behind her ears, felt like a snake wrapping around her soul.

"I'm lost too, Pharah. _In your eyes_."

The two boys snort in their laughter. Pharah exhaled nervously. She thought pulling away as quick as she could would set her free, but the boys did not let go. Instead they shoved her down to the ground where they began pulling up her dress. The demon-mouthed one placed a vampire's kiss after kiss upon her neck and down her chest. She squirmed and shook, cursing every moment.

"No! Stop it! Let go!" she howled. They only laughed harder. She tried kicking again, but her one leg remained useless. Her hands were held down by the beasts as they orchestrated their drunken desires. All their was left to do was scream. If two drunken boys could walk down here before school, who was to say a city or a village wasn't nearby? She panted and cried out: "Stop! Stop! Stop! Help!"

She pressed her legs closed. Her voice was almost worn, pleading in the battle she was losing. Then a loud, striking noise cut the air around them. The boys lifted from Pharah with a slight stumble and stagger. But it was distinct enough for Pharah to know her fight was over. Her screaming had been victorious. A gun shot had rescued her dignity, and sent the boys galloping from the scene.

"Are you ok, ma'am?" came an unfamiliar tongue. English. Pharah sat up, pulling her throbbing leg out in front of her.

"Are you ok?" the man asked again. He slid down the hill of the riverbank with two other of his men. Stones cascaded with their approach. But then suddenly they stopped. Each one gasped as though they couldn't make another sound ever again. Their heels caught in the ground. Pharah looked up. The sapphire sunrise came over the hill, outlining the man that stood with eyes, a face, and hair just like hers.

"Pharah." he said.


	5. Fire, Fire, Rescuers

**There was no** doubt about it. That wiry, discordant voice caked with a German accent belonged to none other than Cortencia von Schroeder; the last person Minako wanted see after rumors started buzzing. Minnie tried sifting through the room, past the cameras and cocktail dresses, to keep as much distance between her and the pink-haired aristocrat. Zigfried von Schroeder hadn't been much farther away either. She could smell his rosy cologne right under her nose. He stood sipping wine among lesser business men, all of whom were interested in the money pouring out of his words. Zigfried was one thing. Her father could deal with him if any trouble started. Cortencia, his daughter, was another. That was something _she_ had to deal with.

Parties like these were not uncommon in Minako's life. Her father had all sorts of revenue-raising bashes like this. Everyone came together in their fine dresses and suits, pretending as if the stock exchange and Sally from accounting's affair was anything intriguing. Minako had been well acquainted with other billionaire children like herself. Yes, and even some mere millionaires as well. It made Kaiba Corp look good if their heiress could play nice with the other children. So mingling was, in short, inevitable. That part wasn't always the bad thing. She could, at least, pretend she had meaningful relationships. It was the scavenging media that truly got under her skin. The press marched up and down the hall in search for anyone and anything newsworthy. And, unfortunately for Minako, her relationship with Cortencia von Schroeder was the day's hot topic.

Minako just had to stay collected. She had a toast she had to make. She was obligated to. Or, rather, was told t by her father. She was determined not to let anything Cortencia had to say get in the way of the speech she'd been rehearsing all morning. Seto Kaiba was watching, expecting his daughter to make one of the most important toasts of the evening. As if that wasn't nerve-wracking enough. She had to stay focused. Focused. Focused!

Cortencia emerged from the crowd, the camera men in tote. She floated as if the attention gave her sparkling wings of pure-heartedness. Her giggle, her pink frills and pearls- it made even the nerves on Minako's skin want to vomit.

"Minnie! Oh, Frau Kaiba! My dear friend, it is so wonderful to see you again."

Minnie's eye twitched. That voice could cut diamonds.

"Cortencia von Schroeder. My, it has been too long. And look at you, so... pink."

"Danke, darling. This dress is from my new line of fashion. You like?" Cortencia flipped a lock of hair, soaking in a moment of Minako's complete envy. It was the perfect time to take a photo. The cameras aligned themselves, shooting off like a meteor shower, as Cortencia pulled Minnie close. Minnie could hardly summon a smile she was so torn by jealousy.

"_You_ have a fashion line?" Minako's voice stung of accusation.

"Why, yes. 'Schonheit von Schroeder' fashion and design. We're the newest trend in Paris; on top of the charts!" she posed for another photograph. "You know, we Schroeders have to find _some_ way to stay on top, and you Kaibas are always so ahead in the gaming industry. What else was I to do?"

"Rot in a ditch." Minako mumbled into a glass of sparkling grape.

"My father says I'm the best thing to have ever happened to him. Not only are we super close, but my fashion idea has saved our fortune."

Either a glass had just broken somewhere across the room, or Minako was listening to her heart shatter. How was that vile, loathsome Zigfried capable of love? He doted on his daughter so, always bragging of her accomplishments, of her beauty and her talent. Minako despised Cortencia, but she wasn't blind to the newspapers. Their oh-so perfect relationship was broadcasted to the public. No, more like rubbed in the public's face. Minako wanted to think of it as petty and stupid. Big deal. Who cares if you're close with your father? So what?

But she cared. Devastatingly and enviously, she cared.

Cortencia, quite pleased with Minako's bitter and silent reaction, shooed the cameras away. They were hesitant, but obeyed the slicing command of the Schroeder's eyes. Sighing haughtily, she adjusted herself as if posing for photographs had left her drained and tired.

"So, Frau Kaiba, I hear your Sweet Sixteen is right around the corner."

Could Cortencia knock her down any farther? Minnie's brows creased upwards and her eyes narrowed. The harsh blue of her irises felt like an icy dagger to anyone in their scope. It was that look of challenge and defense, like how a bear would stand if one got close to her young, or how a bull would huff and stomp before the charge.

"You know, when I had _my_ Sweet Sixteen, my father rented out a whole Carnival cruise ship for me and my friends. You remember, ja? How fun it was dancing in the ballroom and the dolphin rides in the Bahamas. Oh, and the pools and servants. All of it just for us! You remember how perfect it all was? And my dress? Good times, ja?"

"I could never forget that, dear Cortencia. It was the best week of my life." Minako choked on every word. Cortencia smirked. She twirled a strand of her silky pink hair and smiled a smile so angelic and endearing. It was eating at Minako's composure.

"Oh, but I know _your _party will be so much better than _mine_. You're so much more creative than me. After all, you are a Kaiba. And your family has always one-upped the Schroeder family, hasn't it? I'm sure your Sweet Sixteen will be the talk of the world."

It was a challenge. Cortencia was practically pleading for a fight.

"Well, what can I say? Being the best is kind of a family trait."

"Mhm. Just like how your beloved father always lost to Yugi Muto. Yes, Herr Kaiba has surely proven his superiority there."

Minako bit her lip. Her grip tightened around the glass so defensively and aggressively. She'd almost been preparing for it to break into daggering pieces in her palm.

"What's wrong, Frau Kaiba? You look rather distressed. Kind of like how you looked in the video of you fighting that Wheeler girl."

The sting of it rushed through her veins. Cortencia planned the perfect moment to spring it upon Minako. Minnie burned inside, her face reddening with the surprise attack.

"You want a live-action replay of it?"

"You wouldn't dare." Cortencia stepped slightly away.

"Oh, dear Cortencia, I would. You seem to have seen the video, so think about it. Do you want to fight me, _Frau Schroeder_? Clearly I didn't care for the cameras following me as I bashed fist after fist into Lola's face. You think I'll care now that we are in dresses and your father is so near?"

Of course she cared. Of course she couldn't fight there of all places. But she couldn't let Cortencia know that. She prayed no one would call her bluff. She just had to play her cards right.

But then she chortled. "You can't. See, I know that if you so much as lay a finger on me, my father will come after you and your family's corporation faster than your little, black heart is beating at this very moment. While my father will be supportive of me and stay by my side, yours will not. Your father, if a little less then furious, will see you as nothing more than a nuisance hell-bent on ruining his company's name. You started the fight, you made Kaiba Corp look bad. You made _him_ look bad. You can say goodbye to your shopping sprees and limousines, if at all your father hasn't stripped you of the Kaiba name. So I know you won't put a single polished hand on me, Minako _Kaiba_."

"Don't call me that. Ever." her fists tightened.

"Oh? How could I forget how much you cringe whenever someone says your full first name? Minako, Minako, Minako. I don't get it; it is such a beautiful name. Who wouldn't want to be called _Minako_? Hm?"

"Stop."

"Stop saying your name? Why?"

"What does it matter? I said I don't like it when people address me as Minako, so you should respect that and shut the hell up. Unless, of course,_ your_ beloved father raised you like the cocky, blind, bitch you are with no manners whatsoever."

"Oh, my, my, my. And you want to tutor _me_ in manners? Why, I've never seen this side of you, dear Minako. It's like you've been defeated. Whatever is the matter? Something bothering you?"

"Shut up!"

"I think I know what the problem is," Cortencia cupped Minako's hands in hers. She looked with tragically hateful eyes that screwed holes into Minnie's heart. "You are upset because when you look at me, you see yourself. Only a better version. You see what it's like to be loved by a family and to be apart of something important. This is what success looks like. But you? My dearest Minako, you are a failure. What do you contribute to dear daddy's life? You're dead weight. Worthless. And even as heiress to the Kaiba fortune, it's not like anyone truly takes you seriously. You are breaking inside, aren't you? Is that why fought Lola Wheeler? I mean, you already put her brother in jail just to get daddy's attention, right? Minako, I wish I could say I understand what it's like to be you, but... I've never sunk that low. Sorry."

Minako tore from her grasp, her eyes watery with disdain. And with truth. She shook her head, waiting for the right words to come out. What she wanted to say was clinging to the depths of her throat among tears and aching wails. Instead, the heiress growled a heinous sound.

"Let's duel." she cracked.

"What?"

"You heard. Right here. Right now. If I can not punch the ugly from your face as you so clearly deserve, then let us duel. If I win, which I sure as hell will, you will shut up and leave me alone. You will never address me as anything but Miss Kaiba, nor will you speak to me in such a manner ever again."

Cortencia's eyes panned the room. Her father was locked in conversation, too far away for him to hear the war from Minako's mouth. On the other side of the room, Seto Kaiba observed his guests with a nose high into the air. He caught Cortencia glancing his way and then quickly shifted his look to Minako. Perhaps by some secret fatherly instinct, or more likely form his years of competitive lifestyle, he knew something was about to happen. She'd almost sworn he were going to move, come to Minako's aid. But he folded his arms and waited for the show instead. The arrogance he had, believing in Minako's dueling skills. It was the one thing he made sure Minako had acquired. She looked back to where Minako's eyes still cut deep and mercilessly. She was waiting. And burning inside.

"And if I win, I tell 'daddy' what _really_ happened over spring break. Your dirty little secret with Jacob and Lola will be on every news headline and talk show."

Minako, sparkling with victory, sneered. "It's a good thing I won't lose then."

* * *

**No. It wasn't a dream. **Pharah blinked a few times more, and yet the image remained the same. A man who so very much resembled her own reflection, a man who'd spoken her name as if at first glance he knew the answer to every question she had yet to ask herself. There was hardly a moment between heartbeats to think. Her mind dared her to run. He could have worked for the Tawfiqs. He could have taken her back. Or worse. But her heart, a heavy thing in her chest now, weighted her to her place in this man's sight. Broken, brittle breaths were all the could escape her mouth. Not the questions, or a scream, or even a 'thank you'. Just vacant ribbons of breath.

At last he came to her. His gestures were tender- delicate- as if he'd been nursing a frightened, woodland doe. The other men stayed behind, covering their guns from sight.

"Salam 'alaykum, Pharah." he spoke. His accent tickled the words. Pharah knew right away that he was more than just an outsider in the way his Arabic strummed. She pulled herself timidly away, revealing to him her fear of his other-worldliness.

"It's ok, Pharah. It's ok." he tried again. He exhaled before training his Arabic again. "Esmee Yugi Muto. Int betetkalem inglizi?"

She nodded hesitantly. Her reply was an unsure one. She knew she understood English- at least that was progress- but she hadn't spoken a word of it outside of Om's lessons.

Yugi looked her over well. The last he saw of this girl was fifteen years ago; before even his own sons were born. The Ishtars were supposed to keep her safe. They were supposed to look after her and hide her secrets. The girl before him now was a shaking seventeen year-old. It tormented him that he couldn't do much about her quaking, frantic eyes. The girl was thin, rather weakened by her journey, and decorated in filth. But even so, there was no doubt in his mind that this was Atem's daughter. And that only pushed his will to help her farther. He had to protect this girl as a final thank you, as a final goodbye to his dearly missed companion. He just had to show Pharah that he wasn't someone to be afraid of, that he would never harm her. He could understand her fright, however. From all that the Ishtars had told him, Pharah had probably been locked away for quite some time. She understood little of this new, outside world. She would have no wits as to who could be trusted or not. So she would play it safe and trust no one. Not even him.

"Your ankle. It's swollen."

She looked down for an instant and shot a glance straight back up. If this man thought he was going to touch her, he'd have another thing coming. She defended her ground with a perimeter set forth by her deep scowl. It was so much like her father's. It couldn't have been any clearer to Yugi.

"You need help, Pharah. Soon you won't be able to walk on that if you don't get it looked at. I can help you if you let me. But if you truly do not want me to, I will have to respect that. You are afraid, and you may be surprised by all that has happened lately. However, I urge you to let us aid you. We have food, clean water, and medical supplies at our camp. Please, Pharah."

_You know my name. You know my name._ Pharah wanted to scream. _How do you know my name? _

She didn't care about her ankle or for the promise of food and comfort. This man she never met before knew her name! Her soul more than anything was starved and torn from this journey. It begged and writhed for answers within herself. That would be more nourishing, more aiding than any doctor's care. And still, no words would come. Had she forgotten her voice? It had been lost amongst the screams to save her life, or vanquished by fate's untimely practical jokes. Whatever the reason, only aching, whispering sobs could be heard. No amount of will power could trap the tears climbing over her eyes. She let herself loose. It wasn't like she had many options left: let this strangely resembling man tend to her, or die. But for now she could pretend she was saved. She didn't even know why she was crying- only that if felt so good to do it.

There was relief in letting Yugi's arms enfold her. Someone else could now hold her up, watch over her.

"It's ok, Pharah. You're ok now. I promise." He lifted her as he stood, letting the teen's tears soak into his shirt. For some reason, Pharah believed him. She would cling to his words as if they were her new breath.

The other men took turns glancing at the girl in Yugi's arms as if to ask what he planned on doing with her. Was he just going to come to Egypt without a child and return home with? As if either governments would ignore something so blatant. They moved from his path as he carried Pharah back to their dig site. A messenger ran ahead for the doctor and to make quick arrangements for the girl's arrival.

It hadn't taken long at all to reach the camp. The morning meals of Yugi's archeological team still wavered in the air alongside faint campfires. Jeeps were parked alongside a myriad of tents, their wheels embraced by Egypt's sands and muddy riversides. People of varying races trekked the grounds with a task at hand. Further than that, a great whole had been dug from the earth. Tapes marked entrances to long forgotten tombs and sanctuaries, none of which contained more than a few 16th dynasty shabtis and jars. Pharah observed every centimeter if the place, noting upon all the trinkets she'd been unwary of her whole life.

Yugi brought Pharah to a tent marked by a red cross where a gangly man awaited her. He brought a pillow to the bed where Pharah was placed for his examination. At first the doctor froze. Pharah and Yugi were undeniably similar. Yugi could tell the doctor's mind was wandering to all sorts of conclusions, like if he'd ever had some type of affair whilst in Egypt.

"Her ankle." Yugi cut his contemplations short. "It needs immediate attention."

"Y-Yes. Of course, Professor Muto. What do we know of the girl?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. She won't speak. If you can, I'd like you to obtain blood samples. Run them for everything you can think of."

"But why?"

"Please. The less you know, the less trouble you'll be in."

The doctor needed no more than that. He nodded, testing the girl's countenance, afraid she could bite as quickly as a cobra. Pharah was none t o pleased over the people prodding her and feeling her. What could they possibly want with her blood? Why was Yugi leaving the tent? He promised nothing bad would happen to her. He promised!

"Excuse me, Pharah." he spoke quietly. "I will be right back. I need to call my wife, ok? Just let the doctor do his job and you will be fine."

Pharah, her heart already reaching for the man who wore her tears upon his shirt, looked down knowingly. She laid herself out for the doctor, and let fate her make her its doll.

* * *

**End Chapter**

**Thanks for reading!**

**It's New Year's eve, so I figured I'd post this before I kill my liver and destroy my eardrums What?! I'm German- alcohol is practically in my blood! And partying is my thing! lol!**

**Sorry it was a short chapter. I am trying so hard to rewrite "A Truth For Us" because I lost all that to a virus. Major sad face. Having to rewrite it makes me lose the magic in my writing, I believe. "My Heart In Your Cards" will be updated later tonight or tomorrow. (This time for sure!). But thanks for the continued support, everyone, and happy new year! Be safer than I am, because I'm dangerous and make stupid decisions! **


	6. A Glimpse

"I just don't get it." Howard followed his mother down the hall. "Why am I sharing a room with Carter again?"

Tea chauffeured the last bundle of blankets into Carter's room. She huffed with either the satisfaction of moving everything in, or the frustration of having to explain everything to her sons for the twelfth time that day. The twins would have to be living out the next few weeks as they had in their sippy-cup days. Their old bunk bed had long since been replaced by Carter's ever growing book shelves, and their toy chest was refilled with old video games, Duel Monster cards, and junk food. Tea had set up a small futon for Howard across from Carter's bed. Hopefully the distance between them would be great enough so that a war over cards or magazines wouldn't erupt immediately. The room was now stuffed with all their treasures and crowded by the surplus of furniture. But it would have to do for now. It simply would.

"Howard, I already told you. We'll be having a guest over, so in the mean time, you'll stay in Carter's room. Ok?"

"But, mom-"

"But nothing."

Carter dangled upside down from his bed. He watched tediously as his room was being invaded and conquered. There was nothing he could do about it, especially when his mother spoke with that tone. Howard may have been brave enough to tap on the snake's glass, but Carter knew better. Howard was persistent, however, especially when it came to having to give up his personal space. Sure, he got along with Carter, but being around someone so like him all the time got a little nauseating. He would not give up the fight.

"So, who's the guest?"

"Howard." Tea clicked her tongue, fixing the sheets over the futon.

"C'mon, mom. I can't know who'll be living in _my_ room?"

Carter put down his gaming magazine, amused by Howard's determination. And, as he knew, the twins always worked best as a team."He has a point, you know. I think it's fairly pertinent that we know who will be living in our house, sharing meals at our table, stealing our time at the TV."

"TV? Is that really such a huge concern, you two? Trust me, she won't care for TV."

"So it's a she." Howard smirked. "Check that off the list, will you, Carter?"

"Check."

"Did I say she? I meant... oh, never mind. It's a long story."

"We've got time." they said together.

Tea saw no way out of it. Her sons blocked the doorway with their goofy smiles and conniving eyes. They were bound to find out anyways. They were born geniuses, and Pharah would arrive any day.

"Alright, alright. You win." Tea sighed in forfeit.

"We live over a game shop, mom. We tend to win a lot."

"Her name is Pharah. She's your cousin. Sort of."

"Cousin?" Howard wrinkled his nose. "But that would insinuate that either you or dad has a sister or brother that you've failed to mention thus far."

"I said 'sort of'." she rubbed her head. "Look, remember what your father and I told you about the Pharaoh and the Millennium Items?"

"Yeah. He was dad's best friend, right?"

"And you two helped free him from the Millennium Puzzle, and get to the afterlife."

"Yes. He was a very dear friend to us all. Well, he had a daughter. Pharah. Your father found her and, well, now she'll be staying with us until we can find other... arrangements... for her."

Howard and Carter shared a glance. They'd heard all about the pharaoh and shadow games and all that stuff. Joey, Mai, Tristan, their own parents, even retired duelists told stories about Atem and his gaming superiority. Sometimes the adults would reminisce about a duel with some guy named Dartz, or laugh about the time they spent in ancient Egypt. At Christmas dinners or just strolls through the parks, talk of saving the world from darkness and remembering the Pharaoh was so casual and everyday. And as crazy as it all seemed, the kids believed it. Not like they had a choice anyways. But, even so, something about what their mother was telling them just didn't sit right. They weren't so ready to believe in fairytales or Santa Claus, or that an ancient pharaoh's spirit could have a living daughter.

"Wait, wait, wait." Carter waved his hands. "How is that even possible? I mean, the dude has been dead for thousands of years. _Dead_. As in, a spirit with no physical body of his own. Unless you want to count his mummy. He just shared dad's body whenever it suited him. How is it that he, you know, had a kid? Doesn't that kind of spit all over science and the physical world?"

"Unless he used dad's body to-"

"Howard Solomon Muto, don't you even go there. That's not what happened." snapped Tea.

"Then what? 'Cause this makes no sense at all."

Tea paused. Even the twins, who were usually so eager to catch their dragon of a mother off guard, found themselves backing off when they saw her shoulders sink and her skin grow pale.

"Well, see, that's the tricky thing, isn't it? All I can say is that mystery has a lot to do with why you've never met her before. Until now, your father and I... we always thought the worst. We wanted to keep hope that she was still alive, but she's been gone fifteen years." a wiggling sorrow caught in her throat. That was when she shook her head. She had to stray strong for her boys. "Well, we found her, and she'll be coming to stay with us. You will welcome her as any other, alright? And, please, Carter, clean this room before she gets here, will you?"

"Yes, mom."

"Good. Um... I'll call you when dinner is ready." she put on her best smile before leaving the teen twins to their own curiosity.

They waited for her footsteps to sink down the stairs before exhaling.

"So, any idea what that was about?"

"Nope."

They blinked a few times more, trying to stomach their mother's reaction.

"You have no intention of cleaning your room, do you?"

"Are you kidding me? What do I look like to you?"

"You look like me. And I know _I_ wouldn't do it."

"We're twins alright."

* * *

The way he looked at her now was the same as he looked at her then. Vacant. Desolate. Like he never understood just what or who she was to him. Nothing had changed. It didn't matter that she'd soon be having her sweet sixteen; he'd still look on with that look he'd given her at six years old. Even though her duel with Cortencia brought everyone's eyes to her, her father's couldn't have seemed more distant. She didn't understand what she was doing wrong. She attacked Cortencia's princess monsters and woodland companions, she was dueling the best she could. Why wasn't it good enough? Why would Seto Kaiba only stand there with his arms folded, blockading his heart from all feeling? Every move she made was for him. Didn't he realize that? Didn't he care?

Minako didn't have many fond memories of her father- or many memories of him at all. Sometimes she wondered if he knew she even existed as a person and not a pawn. But there was one memory, one inkling of time, that sung its song every time she drew a card or called an attack. Victory was made to taste good by it, although the memory itself was somewhat bitter.

She was three or four, not quite old enough to understand the details around her. Mommy was still in the hospital, but father was very busy. He wanted to come home, he really did. But there was something about lawsuits and bankruptcy that she'd not made much sense of. It made daddy sad whatever it was. Minako had to stay with Uncle Mokuba and baby Haru for a few nights. At least it was better than having to stay with the nanny and servants back at the mansion alone. One night she laid in bed with all her French dolls for comfort, the peppermint oils of her uncle's mansion seaping into her still, dreamless rest. She thought of nothing in particular. Minutes ticked away hours at a time. It was just her in the darkness, her tiny breaths against the pillows, her bulbous blue eyes soaking in all the moonlight they could.

Footsteps gently fluffed the air with their steady tune. She did not stir at their approach; only closed her eyes. They would think she was a good girl if she was sleeping like they told her to do. Yes. That was it. The two figures stopped just outside her door and spoke in hushed tones. But no matter the whisper or the plea, an unfamiliar strain would not leave their sounds.

"But, brother, what will you say?"

"I don't know. I'll figure something out by morning. I have to."

"She's going to find out eventually."

"Yes. But for now, it's best not to taint her dreams. I just... have to see her."

"Of course, Seto. I understand."

The door opened a crack. She heard her father come in, so wanting to open her eyes, so wanting to be wrapped as warm in his arms as she was in the blankets. And yet a fear, a small trickle of it, told her to keep them shut. He sat at the side of the bed and watched her little body for a few moments. Just watching. Perhaps admiring the art and the life he'd helped create. Her porcelain body was perhaps too fragile to touch, too heavenly for his sinful hands. How was he, Seto Kaiba, blessed with such a pure thing as a child.

"Minako." he sighed, reaching over to tuck the blankets closely to her. "My Minako."

_Minako. _She was his Minako. No one else's. This was a side of daddy she'd never seen before. And maybe it was because now she had her eyes closed. Father was never home. Father rarely held her hand, lifted her high and twirled her like other dads would. When father looked at her, it was like how someone would sneak scanning glances at the person they sat next to on the subway. She could imagine him then, though, coveting her with his gaze. But the way his voice trembled over the name, coated it with care and such protection, made her want to hold it tight and lock it up for safe keeping. And that was all it took. Just a sigh, a brief, pain colored whisper.

He kissed her forehead goodnight before slipping off the bed and out of the room. Minako's eyes parted at the sound of the door closing behind him. She sat up quickly with the slightest hope that it wasn't too late, that somehow her dad would still be in the room and be warm by her side. Only darkness was there. Only her and the name she'd tucked away. Minako.

It was the first and only time her father ever displayed such an emotion, but Minako liked to pretend it was there whenever he said her name. To her, it would mean "I love you". It would mean "I'm sorry" and "I miss you". It would mean everything Seto Kaiba could never say.

Minako bit her lip, fighting the ache of the memory. Not even when her life points dove down to two-hundred would she let the crowd see how terribly she yearned to cry. She stumbled backwards from Cortencia's attack. She was failing beneath the Schroeder's twisted chortle. In front of everyone! In front of her father. She was not worthless. She wasn't! She carried the Kaiba name; she _had _to mean something, serve some classy, arrogant, perhaps overrated purpose in life. And her purpose was to win. To make that memory mean something! Winning was the currency spoken of in her silent contract agreement to live within her father's heart, or at least rent it out until she could no longer pay.

Minnie's hand trembled over her deck, praying for a miracle draw.

"What's wrong, Minako? Are you scared that everyone will find out your little secret? Face it; you've lost this duel, Frau Kaiba!"

Seto's eyes burned at his daughter's back and then again at Zigfried. Somehow everything was his fault. Somehow the fact that a duel Minako Kaiba was losing was his pink, frilly, vengeful plan, though he hadn't been participating in it in any shape or form. Seto swore. If Minako lost to anyone in the Schroeder family- anyone _at all_, for that matter- so help him. She couldn't. Not to a filthy Schroeder. Not to a happy-go-lucky commoner. No one. Not at such an important event either. Not in front of everyone who supported the Kaiba the name. He wouldn't allow it.

"Minako!" he shot at her. "Enough fooling around. I will not have you starting a duel in the middle of this event only to have it end like this. Finish her off already!"

_Minako. _It only sounded worth something when her father said it. She shook away the tears and let herself float in resolution and resentment. She couldn't be cut out of the name just yet! She'd rather choke on flaming swords than let Cortencia von Schroeder be right about anything. Cortencia had to be vanquished. Any one who dared take her relationship with her father away would be eliminated! All Minako's lies and secrets, all her guilt and frustration, it would die with Cortencia's life points!

She quit her quaking and gripped the top card proudly between perfectly manicured fingers. This would be Cortencia's doom.

"My father is right. It's time to finish this. First I play the magic card _Malice Dispersion_. By simply removing one card from my hand, I can destroy all continuous face-up trap cards on the field. So you can say goodbye to your _King's Tower of Offerings_."

"No! That means you can now summon any monster without sacrificing your hand!"

"Exactly. You may have forbade me from summoning my most powerful monsters in this duel, but one is all I need to win. I remove one fire monster in my graveyard completely from play, my _Flame Champion_, in order to summon the great, burning_ Inferno_."

"Hah. Really now, Frau Kaiba. Has thinking of everything at stake made you forget how to play the game? That monster only has one thousand, one hundred attack points."

"True, but that's all it takes for now. See, there's something you need to understand about fire. Its hunger is forever, its need for fuel is binding. It will devour anything it can, when it can. And so when this card destroys a monster in battle like your Gem Princess, it will then spread towards the next best thing. Your life points. Fifteen hundred of them to be exact."

"What? No! Destroying Gem Princess would mean I'd only have a thousand life points to spare!"

"Isn't that just a pity? Hmph. Now, _Inferno_, burn her pathetic Gem Princess to ash and set fire to the remainder of her life points!"

Cortencia braced herself for the flames. They swallowed her whole, searing her life points until they were nothing. Even as the holograms swept through her, around her, she was unable to swallow the reality of her loss. She had the upper-hand for the whole duel. Minako had to sacrifice most of her deck, and yet she pulled just the right card at just the right moment? It was no wonder why the Kaiba heiress had gone undefeated her whole dueling career. She was one duel away from earning the world championship title. A flutter of foolishness burned through her cheeks for even thinking she could take that title, the dream away from her. And as just all the other fallen opponents of Minako's, Cortencia ended on her knees, covered in defeat.

"But... I don't understand. How'd you do that?"

"Then let me enlighten you, dearest friend of mine. I'm Minako Kaiba, and I don't lose to people like you. And next time you dare get in my face about anything, I do so hope you remember that. We wouldn't want you to lose in front everyone again, would we?"

"Ugh! I can't believe you! You- you- ah!" Cortencia pounded at fist into the floor. "You Kaibas! You filthy, arrogant, infuriating,-"

"Cortencia, no!" came another girl with from the sidelines. With sweet cherry hair and freckles sprinkled across her round face, Carlotta von Schroeder looked to be the epitome of innocence. She was the younger cousin of Cortencia, born of Leon von Schroeder.

"Please, Cortencia, do calm yourself. It's ok to lose sometimes. We learn from our losses and move on." Carlotta smiled tenderly.

"You don't understand, Carlotta. Minako must pay!"

The crowd stirred. Even Seto changed looks. His arms slowly came apart from their fold and his eyes calmly widened. His daughter won the duel- everyone here saw it. The Schroeders were always sore losers, always trying to pull another stunt after the cards have been put away. Luckily Zigfried had rushed to his daughter as if she'd been bleeding on the floor. For once he and Seto were on the same level; both of their daughters could just as easily ruin the family's reputation.

"Come now, Cortencia dear. Listen to your cousin. She has a point. We are Schroeders. We will always get another chance, and we will always rise again." he cupped his daughter's shoulders.

"But I wanted to win so bad, daddy. For you."

"I know, dear. But you've made me very proud for even doing so well. I love you."

_Fake. Fake. Fake_. Minako screamed in her head. This girl, her tears, her camera-ready emotions, they were all as fake as their friendship. Could they just get this over with already? Minako still had a toast to make, and desperately wanted to hide from the day in some hair salon. Cameras were ablaze at the duel's conclusion, and no one would want to pass up another heart-wrenching father-daughter performance between Zigfried and Cortencia. It was always so nice to see at least some billionaires who were close with their children.

"Oh, gosh. I think I might puke." Minako muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Just don't do it here." came a deep, cutting voice. Her father stood before her in his perfect white suite. He smelt of a deep seated cologne, rich as wine, though not overpowered by it. Nothing about him spoke of tenderness or welcome, but even his cold presence was a comfort to her. Something short of a smile worked on his face. It would read to most as arrogance or some slick smirk, but to Minako it meant so much more.

He handed her a dainty wine glass like making this speech would be some right of passage. And it would; at least, in some invisible manner. Her first speech for the Kaiba Corporation. Perhaps she was moving up. Perhaps her father was beginning to see more of her potential and more of her importance. There was no turning back now. She took the glass with an obsequious smile and giggle, though this hardly registered a thing to her father, and cleared her throat. She rung the glass three times, and everyone's attention, again, was on her. The spotlight had become so much of her home it seemed.

* * *

**End Chapter**

**Thanks For Reading**


	7. Not Supposed To Be There

**Zeyad Tawfiq was** not supposed to be there. None of the Tawfiqs were. They'd thought of a myriad of other occasions they could have shown up at. All of which would have made far bigger impressions than this. This felt childish. Unworthy of their status. Yet against the arguments of his two younger brothers, Zeyad circled the parking lot once more for a spot. Crowds of excited, arm-linked teens made it difficult to claim a spot for his flashy BMW. Most of them would give a fair enough stare at the car that made him thankful he'd come prepared with his sunglasses. He'd have to conceal his identity from his squealing fans, especially at a place like this where there were bound to mobs of them. That night, though, he was armed and deadly. He bore his smug smile, the erotic scent of his cologne, and a sense of fashion straight off a male fashion model. He was ready to pursue the target. This time she wouldn't be able to resist. She can't run from her destiny forever; even her father had to agree to that. Last time she had almost escaped his looks, almost broke away from his charm. But not this time. No. Minako Kaiba was his.

* * *

**"Lola, hurry it up**. We have to go." the other cheerleader whined sheepishly.

Five minutes to halftime and Lola couldn't possibly move any slower. She hogged the entire mirror in the girls' bathroom and growled at anyone who dared wrestle with her reflection. The other cheerleader knew that simply tagging along with Lola in any circumstance was guilt by association; and captain Minako would forget all meaning of "mercy" to those who were tardy for halftime. Especially when their absence meant that the pyramid could not go up. Lola was already an 'X' on Minako's list, and this girl did not want her name to follow in that path. It was risky, and she began to wonder why she had let herself be suckered into accompany Lola to the bathroom- because it is a well known fact that few girls would ever venture there alone. The two had been in there twenty minutes simply sprucing up.

Lola leaned over herself. Her hair fell like a wall around her face. Lola had her mother's thick blonde waves, though her bangs would splinter and stray like her father's. She hacked and jabbed with the brush at the haystack of gold hair that hardly ever succumbed to her demands. The other cheerleader danced about the room nervously.

"Lola, I'm serious. We have to go. I'm about to leave you."

"No, no, no. Wait one second." said Lola from beneath her hair.

"Hurry up. You know how much trouble we could get in for being this late?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Ugh. Are you kidding me? Minnie is going to murder us."

Lola coughed. "Eh, I ain't scared of no one. Especially not Minnie. You seen the video, right? Look, if I can get into a scrap with Minnie and _still_ be on this team, you've got nothing to worry about."

She began dampening her hair with her hands, combing through the fortresses of tangles.

"Yeah, easy for you to say. Minnie may hate you with every molecule of her existence, but she's no idiot. She keeps you on this team because you're the best she's got. And she knows that if you want to be the best, you have to have the best. No one can 'kick-triple' like you can. Except, like, Cheer Extreme or Top Gun. That's saying something. Me, though? I'm perfectly disposable. I'm just the girl who holds the signs because she can't do much else."

"Oh, come on. We both know that's not true."

"Yes it is. Now can we go now? I'm pretty sure you can't get a cheerleading scholarship if you get kicked off the team, and that's my only hope for college. So let's go."

"Alright, alright. Hold on." Lola fought against her elastic band and hair bow. At last she tugged every hair into her ponytail and smoothed it all out. She whipped her hair back, and it swung like a heavy war club. She began adjusting and readjusting her uniform according to all her curves and angles, trying to get a glimpse of her backside and then her full body in the mirror.

"How do I look?"

"For the billionth time, Wheeler, you look fine. Gosh. Why do you even care? This is so not like you." she sniffed the air around her in Lola's approach. "And since when do you wear girly perfumes?"

"Uh... since now?" a hand tightened around her wrist just before she could reach the door. Lola was pulled back to the mirrors where her teammate gripped her wrist with a most sinister smile. Her eyes were aflame with a playful evil.

"So, who's the lucky boy?" she snickered.

"What? Are you-? You think-? No, no. You think _I_ like someone? Pa-lease. Not even, my girl."

"Is it one of the twins? I mean, you're always hanging with them. Which one have you kissed?"

"What? Neither! No, no, no. Listen. You've got the wrong idea, girl. No, no."

"Come on. You can_ so_ tell me. Is it Howard? Tell me you're not crushing on Howard. 'Cause, honestly, he's such a duel dork. Oh! Wait. No, it's Carter. You have the hots for Mr. Smarts, eh? It's Carter, I know it. I know it!"

"Ok, no. Just no." Lola shook her head. "It's so not like that."

"Then why go through the trouble of looking so nice tonight, huh? You. Lola Wheeler; Miss-skateboard-to-school-talks-with-her-mouthful-burps-in-the-middle-of-class. You never care what people think about you. And I can't remember the last time your hair actually looked washed."

"Hey." pouted Lola.

"You're wearing perfume. You've got mascara on. And, for once in your life, you're putting more than five minutes of effort into your appearance. Someone special is here tonight. Someone to watch his boo-thang work it in her sexy cheer uniform!"

"No! Maybe I just like to look good when I'm wearing this uniform. When I wear it, people know I've worked for something. It truly makes me feel good to be wearing this. It's, like, a princess gown you can play dirty in."

"Right. Sure. I'll be watching you, Wheeler." the girl giggled.

"Well, whattaya know? It's probably halftime already." Lola's bright red face managed a smile.

"What? We got to go!" the girl tugged Lola through the hallways without warning.

"Now look who's the one holding us up!"

"Shut up, Wheeler!"

The scoreboard screeched just as the girls entered through the gymnasium doors. For once, it seemed the home team was winning after a long and depressing basketball season. The crowd was already pleased by this, which as Lola thought, made her job that much easier. Trying to excite an angered or defeated crowd was nearly impossible for cheerleaders who were bound by school rules and codes of sportsmanship. Lola and her teammate rushed across the gym to meet up with the other cheerleaders. Everyone was already huddled and stretched out when they reached the clan of pompoms. Minako, of course, was none too pleased by how close they'd cut it this time. Minnie really did not want to speak to Lola of all people. She never wanted to see her again.

"What the hell, you two? Where were you?"

"Emergency. No biggie." Lola rolled her eyes. "Alright now. Let's do this! Let's show them what Domino cheer is all about! Can I get a 'woot-woot'?"

But there was no "woot-woot". The girls stared pointedly down their noses at her. Clearly there had been an announcement she'd missed out on- like perhaps that that day was "Shit On Lola Wheeler's Parade Day". Or something of the sort.

"What?"

"What? I'll tell _you_ what," hissed Minako, "your tardiness forced us to assume you wouldn't be coming. We've already mapped out the routine so that your place is filled. Jade will take your spot as flyer as well for today. You'll just have to sit this one out, Wheeler."

"For reals? Oh, no, no, no. I have not been busting my ass learning this routine just to sit this thing out, Minnie. Put me back in."

"Are you telling me what to do? Excuse me, Wheeler, but_ I_ am head cheerleader. I call the shots around here. It's not fair to everyone else who has to wait on your ass, whether you've been busting it or not, when they show up on time!"

"Minnie, come on. You've got to give me a chance. You know this routine be looking ratchet as hell without my basket tosses or tumbling."

Minako scowled like broken glass. How dare that bratty Wheeler just insult _her_ cheerleading routine as if she owned it! The worst part about it was that she had a decent enough point. If it were up to her, Lola wouldn't be allowed to be right about anything. But Minnie knew the truth. Even though she'd already run the routine without her, Lola's skill in the air always put them into a higher score bracket. The routine was dull and _so_ JV without her.

But there was no time. The announcer came through the loudspeaker, forcing Minako's hand. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, your three-time Nationals winning Domino varsity cheerleaders!"

Minako gathered her team quickly. She shouted over the bursting crowd so they all could hear. Or so help them. "Alright, Lola's in. Do the original routine, and hit everything clean. If any single one of you comes out of your stunts or jumps too early, you can hand your uniform in at the end of this game. Got it?"

"Got it." they all nodded frightfully.

"Alright, let's go!"

They all charged out to the center of the gymnasium floor. Smiles were already branded over their faces as they shouted and bounced with school spirit. Everyone quickly got to their spots before the crowd could die down. Then it was just the silence before the music. Those were always the most intense moments of the routine. Hoping everything hits, praying you're not the one who messes up in front of everyone. And at last, without warning, the beat blared through the speaker. Its rhythm brought everyone to life, motioning and jumping, tumbling and flying from section to section.

Minako shined from the focal point of every formation. Her smile was wide- and, unlike the others, it was real. There was clear fun and joy sparkling from all her expressions. Lola stuck all her skills in the air with total control. She tick-tocked again and again; she even mastered her bow and arrow stretch. Her foot was practically magnetized to her bases' hands. Somehow the thrill of performing before all these eyes- before friends and family- made them shine ten times brighter than at practice. Everything just seemed right. Minako beamed with pride. For once, she wasn't mad at her team. She wasn't nervous that someone would screw up. The crowd was totally loving them! They even clapped along with the beat. Minako felt real.

But Zeyad Tawfiq was not supposed to be there. None of the Tawfiqs were. There he stood at the top of the bleachers where those who sat in rapt by the cheerleaders' performance would hardly glance. He stood like a model out of _Abercrombie & Fitch_; his sunglasses pushed into his messy brown hair, his hands hooked over his belt, and leaning against the wall. Even his brothers posed as bodyguards to his fame. And when Minako's unwary eyes strolled unto his, he gave a most cocksure grin and wink. Minako's smile became the ghost of fire after water had drowned it. Her heart paused at his image. What the hell was he doing here? Why was he watching her with those perfect, dreamy, hazel eyes? His presence was the only thing her body could register. Although the music kept pumping, the beat felt lost beneath her breath. Just what was Zeyad Tawfiq- the undefeated, most gorgeous, top-ranking duelist- doing at her high school's basketball game?

Her legs coagulated into jello, her arms ached with every motion. She even began to feel like a gel torso at target practice. And yet she knew the pyramid was next; the climax of the performance. Everything that had hit wonderfully, that had gone so smoothly, lead up to this moment. Minako's eyes darted for something other than Zeyad. Anything else. In this moment, she was a normal high school girl. The cheerleading captain of a successful, Nationals winning varsity squad. Not a rich celebrity of Duel Monsters, not the girl who had to pose for gaming magazines all weekend, or the girl who had to earn her father's attention. What business had Zeyad had in coming to remind her who she was?

The cheerleaders herded together for the final haul. If this didn't hit, every drop of perfection and spirit they'd put into the routine thus far would be forgotten. Between heavy breaths, they'd all spoken words of inspiration- "come on, girls", "save it no matter what", "we've got this". Minako tumbled into her bases' hands and waited for the right counts. Lola and another flyer went up at the same time, reaching for Minnie's hands. They tugged and tossed her high into the air for a front flip, and then again to the back. So far, so good. Then they dipped her down again for the pop. Minako held herself tight, squeezing every muscle in her body, to land with her one foot. Having Zeyad lock his eyes onto her made her want to do better, want to succeed, be perfect like her father raised her. But her knee unlocked and her bases struggled to grip her foot. Everything was wobbly. Minako could have sworn that Lola was yelling at her, saying something important. And the other flyer too. But it was too late. One moment she was zapping her eyes around, trying not to find Zeyad's face in the crowd, and the next she was ogling the floor with panic.

* * *

**"Is she ok?"**

"That really looked like it hurt."

"Yeah. Do you think anyone noticed?"

"You mean when the whole gym was like, 'ohhhhh', and then it got really quiet at the sight of blood and girls toppling all over each other? Yeah. I would say so."

"Aw man. Poor Minnie."

Minako laid in darkness, drifting slowly for a moment longer. Voices flooded in and out like breezes. Gradually she regained her sense of self. A cold patch drifted along her chest, pressing on and off. A stethoscope? Then more voices- a man's- asking the girls to leave his office. Minako lifted her eyelids slowly to a white ceiling. The world had returned to her as if she'd just risen out of water. She laid on the cot in the athletic trainer's office. Her teammates crowded the doorway with bug like eyes. Blood stained the collar of her uniform and crusted around her upper lip. Without permission, Minako began sitting up on her own. A great ache filled her head, and a throbbing bulb had come to life like a bowling ball had been sewn to her skull. The last thing she could remember was that rush of joy and success, of dong something she truly loved. And then she saw him. She saw Zeyad and that stupid, arrogant, sexy smile. Nausea struck her hard at the thought of it.

"Which one of you dumb whores dropped me?" she croaked, her rage diffused by the dusty waver of her voice.

"Well. Looks like someone is feeling better already." said the trainer. "But you'll still need to rest here for a bit. More tests need to be done, miss Kaiba. You may very well have a concussion. That was quite a fall, my dear."

"No." she wheezed. "No tests. I feel fine."

"But, miss Minnie, please. You may feel fine, but there could be more damage than you realize. I recommend going to the hospital for scans. Wait here, and I'll go call your father."

Minako's heart sneezed within her breast. "No! I am fine! Besides, my father has no time for this matter since there is nothing wrong. It's a waste of time. Now, if you don't mind, I will be leaving now."

"Miss Kaiba, please. I highly suggest you see a doctor about this. Do you even have a ride? Is your driver here?"

"I will be her driver." came a deep, accented voice from the hallway. The cheerleaders all parted with gasps and giggles as he passed. "I will escort the beautiful lady home."

"Zeyad Tawfiq." Minako scoffed. "How dear of you to grace us all with your presence. And have you come to lecture me on how inevitable my defeat is when we should duel for the gaming crown?"

"Oh, Minnie. You're the same ray of sunshine as always. Can't a guy offer a fellow duelist a ride home after she's been hurt?"

A slight blush fell upon her cheeks. He saw her fall. And just how was she supposed to sound all high and mighty after that performance?

"He can. If only he weren't so shady, or perhaps wasn't the guy who only shows up to cause trouble."

"Trouble? Why, that's a disappointment. I'd thought we'd parted on better terms than that. Apparently your opinion of me is not as glamorous as mine is of you." Zeyad's laugh revealed his dazzling white teeth, all in so strict an alignment. The other girls bounced with giddiness behind him. The thing about Zeyad was that although he was never born to the riches that Minako was, he'd always acted the part. He was always so sure of himself, so ready to take whatever it was he wanted. The girls loved that about him. But not Minako. She hated it. She hated that someone could act just like her. Zeyad was ruthless, both in person and in Duel Monsters. He too was undefeated. The best of the best. He and Minako were bound to clash pathways again in the grandest duel the world had seen since the days of Yugi and Kaiba. The winner would take the Duel Monsters throne as King, or Queen, of Games. But for now they'd pretend to be friends. They'd pretend not to want to know what the other was up to.

"Spare me the flattery, will you?" she rolled her eyes in disgust. Minako was a Kaiba. Kaibas never trusted the enemy; only destroyed them.

"Fine. Then at least let me see you home safely, miss Kaiba. Or perhaps you'd like the authorities here to force you into a hospital."

Minako growled. She supposed she didn't have much room for decision. At least if she could walk out of the school with a famous, hot piece of Egyptian arm-candy, her embarrassing fall would be the last thing on anyone's mind. And people would be just so jealous of her. That she could live with.

"Whatever. Just get me out of here."

* * *

**Lola was already** outside with Howard and Carter when Minako had made her way out of the school. She immediately tried to stifle any laughter as her captain approached, but it was nearly impossible for a Wheeler. There was just something so amusing about watching Minako crash and burn. It was one of the best games of Lola's entire cheerleading career.

"Yo, I can't. I can't." Lola struggled against her cackling. "Yo, I was dying up in that stunt. I was trying so hard not to fall over myself that shit was so damn funny. That bitch hit the floor like _'ba-boom'_! Made my whole god damn night. Nah, nah. Not even. That shit made my whole month!"

"But is she ok?" Carter pressed gently, his hands hidden in his pockets. His face was reddening, though not entirely from the night's cool air. Howard knew something was up with his twin, but couldn't quite say what.

"Is she ok? Fuck 'is she ok'. She got what was coming to her. '_If any one of you comes down from your stunt or jump too early, you can hand in your uniform after the game'_. Yeah, ok. Step down, bitch. Step down." Lola shouted to the night sky. She skipped around a few times, shuffling and grooving along the sidewalk in victory.

The twins didn't say much more about it. Howard tried to laugh along with Lola, but Carter distanced himself from the matter as a whole. He checked the parking lot for any sign of his mother but to no avail. Carter trekked along the sidewalk a little longer, letting the foolery of Howard and Lola seep into the background. He had to wonder why his brother just couldn't be himself around Lola, but then he tried shoving away all thoughts of that sort as well. Because telling Howard to man up, to just go for game, seemed almost hypocritical. He didn't want to do that to himself. And as he turned to revisit his friend and brother, Minako paraded herself into the parking lot with her arm linked with someone else's.

"Who is that?" he asked.

"Eh, some super sexy, famous, yada-yada Egyptian duelist." said Lola, riding over on Howard's back. "Yeah. Apparently he just showed up. All the cheerleaders are talking about it."

"Zeyad Tawfiq? The runner-up to be King of Games?" Carter's eyes narrowed in on the pair of elite duelists once more.

"Figures she'd be hanging out with him, both of them being celebrities and all. There are rumors that they're together. Gee, their relationship is going to go though the blender come the day of their duel. They're going for my dad's title after all. It ain't going to be pretty." said Howard.

"Tawfiq, Tawfig, Tawfiq." Lola clicked the name several times, trying to register it. "That name sounds so freaking familiar. Somebody bust open my head, 'cause I know there's something important in there."

"Yeah, ok." Howard snorted.

As the two bickered, Carter watched the two get into his BMW and pull out of the parking lot. Something quite strange was going on and he had to find out. For Minako's sake.

* * *

**End Chapter**

**Thanks For Reading!**

And now: fun character facts

(as suggested by _WhatAboutTheCardGames_).

Characters facts will help keep my characters round and give them more personality so I can stay on track. If you want to know any more about the children of our heroes, feel free to leave questions for me.

1. Lola Wheeler likes to jam out to Nicki Minaj, The Sex Pistols, and Joan Jett.

2. Minako Kaiba's average daily outfit costs about € 400.

3. Howard & Carter can speak Arabic, Coptic, and read hieroglyphs/hieractic like their father.

* * *

**VERY IMPORTANT**

**1. In reply to Candigrl3232 and WhatAnoutTheCardGames, I have made a Youtube channel to answer many of your fanfiction questsions. The video I just deals with tips on how to write Yugioh duel! Please support and feel free, again, to ask me question! I am happy to help in any way I can! Search "Yugioh Fanfiction: Writing The Duels", and when you find a crazy chick rambling, that is me.**

**2. ("My Heart In Your Cards" and -finally- "A truth For Us" will be updated over this weekend. Thank you for the patience. Love you all!)**


	8. Pawns Into Play

**"I guess this** means we're walking." Carter said, closing his phone. "Mom's not answering."

"Oh, goody. I love walking home at night... in the rain... past dark alleyways littered with death..."

"Oh, it's not that bad, Howard." Lola punched at his shoulder as if it would cheer him up. "My brother and I used to walk these streets at night all the time to pick up a midnight snack. Trust me, gas station snacks always tastes better when there's that element of danger in going to pick it up. Yeah. Holla at your girl for braving the streets in the name of hunger."

"Right. Anyways. You tried calling the house phone too?"

"Yeah. No answer. Mom probably fell asleep to her soap operas again." Carter shook his head. "C'mon, guys. Let's go before it starts pouring."

"Hold up, gotta pick up the baggage. Rowan!" Lola shouted across the parking lot. "Say goodbye to your girlie-friend, we're leaving!"

Rowan Taylor's red locks bobbed along with his quick strides. His face was blushing from cheek to cheek. Viveka Wong was _not_ his girlfriend. Just how many times did he have to tell Lola that? However, he knew better than to get under his cousin's skin; because, as history proved, she _would_ leave him behind. So he toddled hastily towards her and ducked his head low, knowing that that Lola would scruff his hair.

Finally the band was complete with a headcount of two identical Mutos, one loud-mouthed Wheeler, and a tag-along Taylor. They all began down the path to the Muto house just as the rain began to pick up. Carter walked just slightly ahead of the others. It wasn't unusual for him to do that, but when his shoulders were hanging low and his footsteps were heavier, it caught the attention of his friends. Howard took his signature red hoodie and draped it around Lola's shoulders, shielding her from the cold and the rain. He then looked from her to his brother as if asking for permission. And she nodded rightfully.

"Hey, Carter." he caught up to him. "Dude, is everything all good?"

Carter was slow in his response. "Hm? Yeah. Sure."

"'Yeah, sure' as in; 'yes, I'm fine'. Or 'yeah, sure' as in; 'I just don't want to talk about it.'"

Not even an irked grunt rumbled in his vocals. Howard had to skip a few steps more to reach his brother. He was speeding up, more than likely trying to avoid both the subject and Howard. Clearly this was a "yeah, sure" as in; "don't want to talk about it". But Howard could just imagine Carter walking into the house with that scowl stitched over his face, and his fists clenched as though at any moment he would flip a table while yelling something barbarically. Their mother would click on the overprotective switch. She'd strap him down to a chair, shine the light in his face, pick apart every detail of her son's day to pinpoint what was upsetting him. She would then proceed in her devilish ways to lather on the monologues of friendship and expressing your emotions in a healthy manner. It was, as the survivors had put it, like wanting to be waterboarded so bad it felt inhuman.

"C'mon. Seriously. You know mom will pursue you day and night if you don't say something now. Let's be honest, you're not as talented as you'd like to be in concealing your grievances."

"And how does any of this concern you?"

"Carter, you _know_ how strange it is when something is ailing your twin and you can not fathom why. I feel it too, bro. Ever since the game ended, I've felt... sick."

Carter looked back. Lola and Rowan were in their own world a few meters back, not giving much notice to the twins. He sighed. His brother did indeed have a point. And no one would understand him better than the refection awaiting his answer. They always had worked best as a team.

"It's not even that a big a deal. I just... I'm done with the secrets. I can not believe she got in the car with him."

"Huh?"

"Minnie. Right in front of me too. She just clings to her new boy-toy, who we all know is about as fake as Lola's excuses for missing school, and leaves!"

"What can you expect, though? It's Minnie Kaiba. That's her lifestyle; fast cars, expensive clothes, the paparazzi. To her, a tan, Egyptian supermodel and duelist is as good arm-candy as one of her designer purses. If anything, she's probably just using him too. Why would a rich celebrity waste her time with us; finite specs on the margin of the social galaxy?"

"Because she's not _just_ a rich celebrity!" Carter turned quickly to his twin. "Maybe mom has drilled those friendship speeches into my head a bit too much, but we grew up with Minnie. She's always been our friend. I would know! She and I took our first steps together. And between all those photoshoots, and out of the stadiums, Minnie is just like us. She has feelings. Ok, so granted she's not very good at showing them, but not everything she does is so dry."

"So," Howard thought carefully over his words, "what you are saying is that Minnie's actions are not as shallow as I had conceived. And therefore she is not simply using Zeyad, but instead actually _likes_ him. And you are... upset by this?"

"Well, I mean, no, but yes, but..." he sighed. "Minnie is driving around with some egotistical, infamously womanizing guy, and completely blew me off for him. He completely shames the game of Duel Monsters! I don't understand girls. I don't think I ever will. I tried talking to her today, I wanted to know if she was ok after getting hurt and- and- after everything we've been through. You know damn well I could have blurted to the world that I beat the famously 'undefeated' Minako Kaiba in Duel Monsters. I could have. I could ruin her reputation, destroy every thing all her lies have built upon. I could be living her life, I could be a famous duelist like our father was. But I never told a soul. Because I made a promise to a friend, not just some rich celebrity. The only ones who know of it are you, her, and myself. And I hate keeping secrets from my friends, but you know if Lola knew, she would have a field day with that. She's been looking for a way to tear Minnie down since that whole Jacob thing. I kept every secret, I stuck to every promise. And she can't even say 'hi' to me. She looks at me like a muddy puddle in her path when she's wearing some super expensive shoes. How ridiculous is that, Howard? You know, for a son of the King of Games, it's pretty pathetic that I seem to fall for every trap and spell that girl lays out for me."

Howard took his brother in. "Well, that's your problem, Cartface!"

"What is?"

"You're a duelist! You want the girl? You've got to play the game. And right now it seems like the only one playing their cards right is Zeyad."

Carter's smile was forced but appreciative. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right! I have the highest GPA in the school."

"Uh, no. Second highest. You're point two beneath me."

"What?" Howard froze in his tracks. His whine echoed between the rain drops and navigated to Lola and Rowan's attention. They quickly sped up to meet their friends, but more so to laugh at someone's misfortune. Which, more often than not, was Howard's.

"First born. First place." Carter teased. Howard was ready to tackle this kid to the ground. And before her could lay a hand on him, Carter bolted for the house.

"Yeah, first born because of seven stinkin' minutes!" Howard dodged after him. Lola soon joined the frenzy, sensing adrenaline and perhaps a dash of trouble. It was her calling. She screamed and shouted after them, making on and on about how they were always so secretive and never included her in their boy-time meetings. Rowan's little legs carried him the best they could. No way was he falling too far behind the older teens on a night like this. They all soared through the rain, laughing and shouting. Surely the whole city heard them coming like a tornado down the streets. Cars wailed at them for not looking before crossing, pedestrians snarled when they realized people could have fun in the rain like heathens. But they didn't care. Not at all.

All at once, four pubescent teens tore into the Muto house. Lola broke above the bundle, all of them crammed into the doorway, trying to be the first one in. She shoved and tugged past the boys and finally fell into the entrance way. The boys tumbled in after her.

"Yes! Lola Wheeler is the victor! Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Let me hear you say 'holla'!"

"That was not fair. We couldn't really push and or shove you considering your rather bulbous appendages!"

"Aw. That def sounds like a personal problem. But I won! Oh, yeah! Me! I did it! Get some!" Lola began peeling off her shoes and jacket, everything that was soaking wet. Her hair needed to be wrung out and her bow mended. But when none of her friends laughed, she immediately stopped making herself at home. She saw how incredibly wide her friends' eyes were, how still and blanched they had become.

"Uh, is there like a giant, man-eating alien growing out of my back or something? Why is everyone-" she turned around and faced the Mutos in their living room, where a dainty Egyptian girl sat frightened as a mouse, with bangs, with eyes, and with a face so much like Yugi's.

"Whoa." she said.

* * *

**"Dancing, that's it.** You like dancing." Zeyad smiled wide.

"Nope."

"Ok. How about the movies? You like to act? Watch movies? Make movies?"

"No, no, and no."

"Oh, come on, miss Kaiba. There must be something you like other than Duel Monsters."

"Cheerleading."

"And cheerleading."

"Well, alright. Don't laugh, but... I love to play the piano."

"You? Play the pianoforte?"

"I said not to laugh."

"I'm not." Zeyad smiled ever-so perfectly. "Actually, it's very interesting. What is it you play exactly?"

"Hmph. Anything. Anything I feel like. I love etudes, and, really, anything Chopin or Tchaikovsky."

"Still, I could've sworn you'd be more into movies. Are you sure you're not? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you would look fantastic on the big screen."

"Zeyad," Minako rolled her eyes with a strict voice. "That was even too cheesy for you. So, before you can say anything else with that caliber of stupidity, I hope you know that I am not- nor ever will be- your girlfriend. There is no way I'd be able to tolerate all your goofy pickup lines and unnecessary flattery long enough for a relationship to ever work."

"Are you sure about that?" Zeyad inched closer in his seat.

"Yes. Very." she cut out the words. Though, as they splintered from her tongue, she couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be in his arms like that. She'd be able to inhale that cologne all day, lose herself in the fortress his thick, toned arms could border around her. Surely they'd become the feast for every magazine and teen news. The newest power couple, with some fan always trying to spy on them for a juicy picture; maybe of her wrapping her legs around him, or maybe him whispering something in Arabic through the wisps of her chocolate hair. None of it seemed all too bad. It almost tingled in the base of her spine, made her want to play just a little dirtier.

Then there was silence in the car. Only the ticking of rain against the windows brought any measure to the moment. Minnie could have gotten out an hour ago. She could have slammed the car door on Zeyad's deliciously dazzling face. That _is_ what she imagined doing when they reached the driveway to her mansion. But then he began to talk, and she began to laugh. She was spinning through so many emotions in one night like she was tied to a wheel. Life would toss knives of embarrassment and resentment, then irritancies and nervousness, waiting for her to vomit from the whirling, whirling motion. But it was more than once that Minnie had caught herself smiling whenever the Egyptian rebel looked her way. Sometimes he'd blink downwards at her chest, watching her girlish breath entangle to where breasts did all the breathing. Other times he'd see her legs crossed over each other, how her uniform skirt wound tightly around her straight thighs. Minnie bit her lip. She writhed inside as much as she cheered and twirled. She despised just how much she got off on the way he was looking at her.

"Minnie," Zeyad began in his Arabic accent, "can I ask you something? Something serious?"

"I'd rather you not, but... ok." it was almost a whisper.

Zeyad shifted himself in the leather seats. He reclined back with a comfortable exhale and waited to find the words before he faced himself to her. His arm rested over the steering wheel, and the lights from the speedometer and radio carved his high cheek bones and bridged his nose.

"Was Jacob Wheeler ever your boyfriend?"

Stinging. Stinging. Burning. Thankfully most of the car was dark, or else he'd be able see the damage he'd done. All the tingling firecrackers that were tickling her stomach were now bombs raging fire and seige under the cheeks of her face. Now she wished she'd just gone inside, slammed the door on his face.

"I... I really don't want to talk about that."

"Oh, come on, Minnie. This is important."

"No, it really isn't."

"To me it is." Zeyad move himself more into Minnie's sight. "I need to know if what he did to you-"

"It's done and over with, Zeyad! He's in prison, I'm ok, everything is fine. And no one needs you digging up the past for hot coals so you can start another fire. It's done. So just drop it."

"If there's hot coals, it means the fire isn't completely out. Something about it is still alive."

"Well whatever! Even if there is, it does not concern you _at all_!" Minnie tossed her purse over her shoulder and pushed against the door, but Zeyad's hand yanked her back.

"You're not just afraid to admit that you've never had a boyfriend before, are you?" the smoldering smile of his dared her to fight back.

"What? No. That's stupid."

"So you _have_ had a boyfriend before. I was beginning to worry about all the boys in your school. How could they not be attracted to such a feisty, beautiful young woman like yourself?"

"One word: 'daddy'. That's why. And if you were smart, you'd leave me alone as well."

"No boyfriend then? You're not a virgin, are you?"

"What does that matter?" Minnie tugged again. "Zeyad, you're annoying the fuck out of me. Let me out of this car right now and get the hell out of my driveway."

"Oh, don't be like that, Minnie. Why are you getting so defensive? You know I'm just playing with you, babe."

"No." Minako slipped out of his hand and was out of his car before he could reach again. "The only playing you will do with me is at the Kaiba Dome, with eight-thousand life points each, and a whole world waiting to crown their new gaming champion. I hope your talent for excessive flattery will still help you woo the ladies, because when I am done with you, all anyone will ever see of you is the defeated ruins of a lonesome, desperate failure."

"Oh, ho, ho. Are you sure you should be talking to future King of Games like that?"

"Are you sure you should still be in my driveway steaming over how you won't get laid tonight?"

That sent Zeyad fuming. He kicked open the door and marched onward to his prey. His feet were heavy, like thunder in this rain. Zeyad gripped Minako's shoulders, his hand crunching down on her as dog would a chew toy. She squealed for a second until she hate the sound of that too.

"Oh, I'll get laid tonight. Don't you worry, sweetie. Just not by something as cheap and saggy as you. From what I hear, Jacob Wheeler already parted the sea."

"Security!" Minako screeched with all her rage. "Security, help! Get this thing out of here! Now!"

Four men in suits stormed out of the mansion, two with guns drawn. The Kaiba Corp security spared no expenses, not even in guarding moody heiresses like Minako. They hustled and aimed without question and always on command. Just the way Minako liked it. The men had Zeyad surrounded, shouting that he leave the premises immediately. "Get of here", they ordered. "You're on private Kaiba owned property". And Zeyad may have been handsome and charming, but he also knew when he was outnumbered. Everything about the Kaiba Corp was intimidating; from the security officers ushering assault rifles, to the fines and punishment he could face for even stepping on a single blade of grass of their land. Zeyad retreated back into his car, a rather steamed and frustrated look ironing his lips closed. His car roared to life when one of the security men came to comfort the heiress.

"You got lucky this time, you little bitch. It's not going to be so easy for you when we duel. You're going to be begging for this dick just so you can pretend you're important again. Just like you did for Jacob's." he yelled out the window. Minnie stood shivering in the rain. She acted as if the rain was too loud for her to hear a word he just said, but inside everything was crashing down. It was only when his car vanished down the street that she managed an actual movement.

"You alright, Miss Kaiba?" one of the men helped her inside the mansion. Minako only nodded in fear that the tears would come out of her words.

More maids rushed down the hall to greet her. All wore concerned, worried faces, though Minako wasn't entirely convinced many of them gave a damn. She was handed off to the maids and they all went to work.

"Oh, Miss Kaiba. Here, let's go on upstairs, get you all dried off. Annabelle will make you some hot chocolate, alright? With some strawberries on the side?"

"Is my father here?" was all she could manage to say. Though, once the words left her mouth, she felt incredibly stupid. Of course he wasn't there. Her father was never home. Well, at least not this home. He was probably lounging in his mansion in France, or working at his office in Switzerland. This was Minnie's mansion. It always had been. The smallest of all the Kaiba homes, this one was always Minnie's favorite. It was close to school, close to familiarity, filled with the many scents of memories. And it had always been her and the servants, aside from Uncle Mokuba's visits. Just her, just the servants, and the echoes of a fatherless childhood bouncing off the grand, hand-detailed walls.

* * *

**Tea's eyes seized **each of the teens. They were perfectly clear that if anyone so much as made a move without her permission, there would be some serious consequences to pay. Even rebellious Lola bent to her will, and each of the teens slowly and quietly removed their shoes and coats. In the living room, Yugi had placed a firm hand on Pharah's shoulder. She writhed at every sight and sound, though still trying to remain as still as at all possible. The teens each took a spot in the room, placing themselves at a curious-enough distance from the stranger planted on the couch between Yugi and Tea.

"Uh, hi, dad." Carter bowed his head and Howard waved timidly. "Welcome home."

"Howard. Carter." Yugi acknowledged them both.

"Yeah. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Muto." Rowan and Lola echoed softly. Every watched their words swerve around the stranger who still looked as ready to bolt as a wild hare. No one wanted her to think they were directing anything towards her. Nothing cruel. Nothing kind. But perhaps if they imagined hard enough, Pharah would seep away into her silence. Perhaps they'd all been hallucinating her in the first place. How could this gangly thing be the daughter of the Pharaoh they heard so much about?

Never had their been a more inert night in the Muto home. Where was the laughter? Why wasn't the family circled around the table playing board games or solving a puzzle? Howard wasn't blasting chords on his guitar. Tea wasn't yelling at him to turn it down. Not even Lola made a peep; which was a sure apocalyptic encryption that anyone would attest to. At last Tea sat straight, clearing her throat with all the motherly dignity in the world. It was the sign that pain was soon to come, then if not, some life-changing news.

"Everyone, I would like to introduce our guest. This is Pharah. She came here all the way from Egypt and she will be living with us for quite some time. Um, now, I must inform you that much of our world is new to her. But, nonetheless, she is family and we will treat her as such. Ok?"

Lola rose her hand slowly.

"Yes, Lola?"

"'Kay, um... I'm just gonna come out, be the big kid, and ask the obvious question that we're all thinking here. Um...why the hell does this chick right here look so much like Mr. Muto? I mean, damn. Did I miss something? 'Cause honestly it looks like Mr. Muto put some tissue in his shirt, tied his hair back, and got himself a nice tan out there in Egypt. And, quite frankly, Mr. and Mrs. Muto, I'm a little freaked out by this."

"Lola Serenity Wheeler, this is not the time for vulgarity."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I just.. I... I don't know what to think." she finally covered her mouth in contemplation.

Howard and Carter looked once at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking. More digging had to be done. Absolutely. This was not what they expected. Perhaps someone who acted with a little more normality, but not this sheep being guarded by their lion parents. Pharah absorbed everyone and everything, but no one could be sure she was actually understanding a thing. She was silent. Completely silent. And no one dared bring it up as much as they so yearned to.

That night, everyone tried to swallow their dinner as if nothing had changed. But there wasn't a person in the room who wasn't discomforted by Pharah's eyes and how they bore down on someone at their most vulnerable eating mannerisms. She only took a few bites of the pork before abandoning the idea of eating this strange food all together. Later on, at least, Lola tried to make nice with the alien girl. The boys went off to avoid any more awkward moments, but Lola was too sociable to leave anyone alone. She was also much too annoying and much too thoughtful.

"So, do you like it here in Domino?" she placed herself beside the girl, needing to know and to gossip. Tea monitored the situation from afar, like Lola were playing too close to a china cabinet.

Pharah thought about it, mulled it over, and then nodded rapidly. Her smile was a very attempted, friendly one. Which was all Lola needed to make a friend.

"Cool. By the way, my name is Lola. Lola Wheeler. I basically live here too, because the twins are my best friends. Which means we'll be seeing a lot of each other. I hope you don't mind, but I can be pretty wild sometimes. Did you have a best friend back in Egypt?"

Again, she pressed her lips and thought. This time, however, a shrug was her only reply.

"You don't know? Well, I could be your best friend. I mean, you've gotta be pretty cool to chill with a Wheeler, but I think you can swing it. Whattaya say?"

Pharah's smile perked up her cheeks and revealed a whole row of pearly whites. She lifted her hands to her heart and then placed them atop of Lola's.

"Sweet. Haha, I always knew I was a smooth operator. Anyways, you know what job I think you'd be perfect for? One of those actors in Disneyworld. Yeah, you cold be one of them princesses. They're always looking for people with big, vibrant expressions like yours. But they talk. Why don't you talk?"

This time she blew a single blonde bang from her face with a miserable shrug.

"Well, just hang out with me a few more times and you'll be yapping away. See, sometimes I talk so much that the people I'm talking to want to start a monologue just so I can shut up. One day I'll get you to talk. One day."

_One day_, Pharah thought. Yes. Like that one day Baba had always promised her; the one day she'd walk to the horizon. Like the one day when the birds do not sing and the sun does not shine. Like the one day she ran from Om, from everything she once knew. And now, one day she'd speak again. One day when she'd find her voice again, and speak with this new best friend. There was always that one day.

**End Chapter**

**Thank You For Reading**

* * *

**Answers To Your Character Questions**

**1. Pharah should be about 152 cm (5 feet?) tall.**

**2. Lola is close with both of her parents, but I think she's closer Joey since Mai is often working all day.**

**3. Minnie likes to listen to The Veronicas, Aly & AJ, and mainstream clubbing/radio.**

**4. If by 'thing' you mean 'crush', then not really. She's just fools around with Howard more than carter because he's so shy and awkward.**

**5. Minnie is Japanese ('cause I'm assuming Seto is, but I've always wanted him to be Russian too). So I guess Minnie is Japanese-Russian. No one knows what her birth mother is (who is not Kisara). Hm. idk. lol. Good question.**

**6. While Carter is stemming out more into hiphop, the twins basically like rock and indie.**

**7. As you will see in later chapters, Howard is more introverted than Carter. Howard, even as called by the cheerleader Lola was talking to, is a "duel-dork". He's quiet, shy, and only opens up around Lola and Carter. He's into puzzles, reading, and is socially awkward. Carter is more sociable, and as the slightly older twin, he leads his brother. He voices his opinions, stands up for himself, and has a special athletic talent (that at this point would be a spoiler).**

**8. Minnie: "I don't need help from anyone! What would my father think if I had to be assisted by some dweebs? No, no, no."**


	9. Debts To Be Paid

**One week later...**

The television mumbled from across the room. Tea laid there in bed beside her husband, absently flipping channels with no real cause or want. She cuddled closely to his warmth, entangled in the comforter, and resting her head over his slender chest. With one hand gently rolling up and down her shoulder, Yugi's other hand tended to his paperwork. He scanned through artifact reports, electrical bills, and interview requests. All chores wore done, all worries were supposed to be tucked away until morning. The night seemed as calm as the silence humming through the house. The twins were asleep; otherwise there'd have been the voices of some dispute over something or another. And Pharah was hidden in her room, just as quiet as ever. That was what preoccupied most, if not all, of Tea's thoughts as she tried so earnestly to settle down for the night. She never expected Pharah to be a hassle or cause a ruckus, but the girl had yet to say a word to anyone at all. There was only once when Tea came close to hearing her voice. She'd been brushing out Pharah's thick, multicolored stack of hair and some discomforted cry chirped in her throat when the brush got lost in the knots. There was almost a voice. Almost.

Tea sat up tiredly. The sound of the blankets moving was so much louder now that the house was vacant of noise apart from Yugi's papers shuffling.

"Yugi?" she whispered hoarsely. His eyes reached over the dull lines of text and found hers staring back with a pressing stare.

"What is it, love?"

"I'm worried."

He put the papers down, giving his full attention to her. "About...?"

"Pharah."

"Oh, Tea. The girl will speak when she's ready-"

"I know. But," she sighed as if her next words were weighted with stress, "the other night, I went and bought her some simple Bath & Body Works goodies. You know, things to make her feel welcome and comfortable. Some shampoos, conditioners, even girly washes and floral scented gels. I lead her upstairs, gave her clean towels and some clothes, but she just stared at me like she didn't know what in the world she was supposed to do with any of it."

"So she's never been pampered by glittery, exfoliating bubble baths. That's hardly a concern, dear." Yugi chuckled lightly.

"No. I mean she looked like she truly, honestly didn't believe that I was going to leave her alone to wash. I turned the shower on and she literally jumped. It had to be a bath instead. Yugi, she didn't know how to bathe herself. The last time I gave anyone a bath was when the boys were little babies splashing around in the tub with their boats and fishes. But there I was, helping a seventeen year old girl get the shampoo out of her hair. Things are far worse than we thought."

This was heavier than he would admit. So much heavier. Even he had noticed some of the disheartening signs of Pharah's sheltered life. Sometimes the girl would waltz down the stairs in the most clownish of outfits. They'd left her to get dressed in the morning with the clothes they'd bought her, and yet even the beaten old dress she'd shown up in was a better fashion statement. At dinner, she would observe the ways in which everyone else would eat before attempting to do the same. She tiptoed around televisions and cell phones as if at any moment one was sure to attack.

Yugi placed all his work on the nightstand and returned to his wife's concerning eyes with a powerful exhale. When Ishizu Ishtar told them the girl had lived a very sheltered- and primitive, it seemed- lifestyle, she failed to explain the extent of it. The Mutos were in no way prepared to deal with this.

"What are we going to do, Yugi? She has so much to learn, but I don't want to overwhelm the child. I feel so bad, but at the same time, I just want to shake her as if it will magically make her, well, normal. And what if the Tawfiqs come looking for her? Then what? We hide her in the house from them just as they had from us?"

"What else was I to do, Tea? I couldn't just leave her there. Two guys were attacking her, and I just wasn't going to let her stay in Egypt. She wouldn't have lasted out there, Tea, and that's the truth. I'm surprised she even made it as far as she did. If she's frightened by a showerhead and scented baths, then she would have met a terrible fate either by the Tawfiqs or someone else. And I couldn't let that happen. Not to her, not to anyone."

They breathed in the reality of it. Yugi was perfectly right. He was practically forced to take her in by some dare of fate; because it wasn't like the Egyptian government was simply going to let him walk out of the country with someone else's kid. Even if she was an orphan and alone, she was still an Egyptian citizen. Egyptian property. And he stole her. He had to at least hope that the Tawfiqs had kept Pharah so tucked away from society that there'd be no trace of her existence whatsoever- as twisted as the notion felt. Otherwise he'd have more than the Tawfiq family coming after her.

"She is Atem's daughter." he didn't look at his wife. "There isn't a thing about her that doesn't ring his name. She may be silent, even a little scared, but her eyes are still the same as his. They see more than we'll ever know. She's not seeing us, she's seeing into us. And while she may not have much to say right now, she's learning, judging, copying, and remembering everything that's been thrown her way since she's arrived. She had the courage to run from the Tawfiqs, the intuition to sense that something was wrong in the way she was being treated no matter how hard they tried to brainwash her. That shows a lot, Tea. It shows that the great Pharaoh Atem and King of Games is alive in her yet. She just has to find the way into her own heart."

He grabbed Tea's hands then, "Tea, of all places for me to be walking, of all times, I stumbled upon her. The child of my closest companion. Maybe I found her or she found me. Either way, it was little piece of destiny sent from the pharaoh. I know it was. Our hearts are one even after he's passed on. He brought us together; that's why she's here. And I will do whatever I can to give her a good life. I owe it to Atem to do that."

Tea brought her face close to his, planting petals of kisses on his cheek. A smile came to her face as she lifted her dear Yugi's chin.

"You're too good, do you know that?"

"Huh?"

"I know how close Atem was- _is_- to you. Seeing Pharah each morning must be so strange for you; to feel joy and heartache all at once, remembering all the duels and all the laughs, and then how he... he walked away into the light. Shoulders proud, head held high. Gone forever. Oh God, I still remember that smile of his." she paused to blink away a few budding tears. "But now it's like a part of him has returned. I love you, Yugi, and I am with you for better or worse. Forever and always. It may be a hard road ahead of us, but as long as we stick together, we'll make it through. Let us both honour him by loving his daughter like she were ours."

"Now _you're_ too good." Yugi smiled after placing a passionate kiss over Tea's lips.

* * *

**It was one of **those few moments in the Wheeler house that everything could be observed in stillness. The sky was only beginning to blue, the birds whistling along to day's return. Cars returned to the streets of Domino gradually and gradually, life resurfaced in the city. And still the house was silent. The kitchen was empty- as it was for only a few moments of the day-and no music was blaring from Lola's room. Without the stressors of life creeping under the covers with them, Joey and Mai slept calmly in bed. Mai enveloped herself deep in Joey's arms, taking deep, calm breaths into his muscular chest. Morning was in its infant hours; a time when a weary Lola would slip from the forestry and mountains of her sloppy bedroom and creep down the hallway to her brother's. This was a ritual she'd been practicing since the day the cops took him away.

His room still smelled like him; a tang of Axe and motor oil. His band posters were still askew and poorly taped to the walls, and the craters left from his fists were still hidden behind them. Their mother had swept through the room a few times, cleaning and preparing for the day he would return. His clothes were tucked away, the trophies and books all put back on the shelf. Were it not for the scent and perhaps the hope too, it could have been that Jacob Wheeler had never existed. And for the past three years, it felt like that too. Sometimes Lola would catch her mother spreading tears over the sheets of his bed. Oh, how Mai would cry when she'd pass his bedroom, when she'd come in to dust or to vacuum. It was almost like Jake had died as a wee child, and would never laugh, nor smile, nor slide down the stair banisters again. Her father was less obvious in his troubles, though Lola couldn't deny the hurt in his eyes whenever there was mention of the name.

Lola slid slowly into his bed as if not to disturb the ghost of him resting beneath the covers. She found the sweetest spot, cocooning deep into his old impressions and falling into the pillows around her. She often laid like this until she could hear her alarm clock whistling from her own room, or until there was a stirring from her parent's bedroom.

Many times she did not ever want to leave. It gave her hope that soon her brother would be home again. Soon he would take her out skateboarding with the "big kids" like he used to, or help slip a whoopee cushion under dad's chair. Maybe he'd even drive her to school in his wanna-be hotrod with the music blasting, or he'd tease her when she'd get scared after a horror movie. Maybe he'd yell at her for sleeping in his bed, maybe he'd laugh at her for being such a sap. Whatever he'd do, Lola needed him to come home. Oh how she missed all the fights they'd had when they snuck into each other's rooms. The good 'ol door slamming while screeching about how stupid the other was had never felt as joyous as it had in her memories.

She even thought about saying a prayer or wishing upon a star. But there was no need. The knob to the room twisted open with a jiggle. Lola's face reddened in the darkness. It always managed to become a most embarrassing moment when her parents would catch her snuggled in her brother's scent. Then they'd get all "concerned-parent" on her and want to talk about their emotions and how to deal with them. Lola couldn't bear another one of those conversations. Not again. She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to be too fast asleep for a conversation. It would always end in the same grim realty; Jacob would not magically appear, and there would be no pill for the ache that knowledge held. Or, at least until that particular morning, when the voice that had spoken her name was neither Joey's nor Mai's.

Lola rolled over, the covers still protecting her from any false hopes that may have awaited her in the dark. A large duffel bag hit the floor, and then a jacket and a pair of worn out Converse. They smelt of Axe and of motor oil. And Lola's heart began to flap its little, hatchling wings.

"Jake?" she croaked.

"Even when I'm behind bars, you're still not allowed in my room, Squealy."

* * *

**"Oh! That is ** just way too cute, Minnie. You should def get that one." clapped one of Minako's friends from the divan.

Minnie twirled her dress in the mirrors, watching as it flowed and spun around her. The very sight of her tall, lean legs slipping elegantly from the slit of the dress begged for the red carpet. Every fabric fell effortlessly against her curves and every rhinestone posed for a paparazzi. But still the heiress could not be pleased. She took a final look, placing her hands defiantly on her hips, and frowned snootily.

"No. I'm not feeling it." she said.

"I-Is there something the matter with the dress?" a timid saleswoman tripped over her French accent. She shook and quivered over her notes, wondering why she of all the store's employees had to be assigned to Minako. Seeing the Kaiba name on her schedule raised her heart a beat. This was Minako's sweet sixteen, and the dress would set the bar for the entire night. It would be the first thing anyone would notice upon her grand arrival to her party. If she did well and found the heiress her dream dress, the reward would be more than she could imagine- or so she assumed. But if not, it could be the apocalypse upon her career. And Minako would rain a terrible fire just as her legacy of displeased employees had spoken of.

"Mm," Minnie hummed with the question, "No. I don't know. It's just... not me. No. Get me another dress. I'm tired of looking at this thing."

"Oui, Mademoiselle Kaiba."

The dress shop was reserved for the wealthiest of brides and partygoers. Whatever middle class woman that stepped through the doors was either completely out of her mind, or so desperate she'd sell her house for the perfect dress. Perhaps both fitting hand in hand. The strictly vacuumed floors made that soft, "I'm-so-rich-I-can-pay-to-eliminate-sound" sort of muffle beneath every footstep. Every dress, wall, and lint ball smelt of an overdose in Clive Christian perfume- one of the most expensive perfumes in the world, and, naturally, Minako's favorite. Everyone from duchesses to celebrity billionaires shopped in Paris' elite fashion boutiques for their big events.

Minako shook her way out of a dress and reassembled herself in Gucci sweaters and sweatpants. There was no point in getting all dressed up if she'd be trying dresses on all day. Her friends, whom she made 'daddy' pay to take on her trip to Paris, all waited for her in the modeling area. None were too far from their glitzy phones, of course, and hardly a glance went up when she returned.

"Did you guys actually like any of the dresses I tried on?" she inquired. Only a few looked away from their screens long enough to answer.

"Yeah, totally! Those dresses were ugly on the racks, but you made them look so freaking gorgeous."

"Yeah. You are so tall and skinny, but yet you can fill out a dress wonderfully. I wish I had boobs like yours."

Minnie rolled her eyes. In short, it was safe to assume that it didn't matter what she put on so long as they could travel with her to places like Paris and Hong Kong. They didn't give a damn. And if at all they did, they'd let Minnie walk out of the store with the most hideous dresses just to have her embarrass herself. She threw herself into one of the chairs. Even the overpriced furniture was a better friend than any of those girls; at least the cushions would catch her when she was falling down, down, down.

"Thanks. I guess. I was hoping that if I went and got the dress first, I could think of a theme to go with it. Since I obviously can't do it the other way around."

"You still haven't thought of a theme?"

"Girl, you are slacking!"

"I know, I know." she huffed the hair from her face. "I just don't know what to do. Something feels missing, or... whatever. I don't know. Someone get me a latte, I'm freaking dying over here."

None of the girls moved right away. It happened like a game of dominos; each girl turning their head towards the next until one remained to carry out Minako's orders. She put down her phone, her mouth falling wide, and looked so betrayed at her posse of fashionable friends. None came to her aid. Minnie's fingers ticked and tapped along the arms of the chair with impatience. Her brows were arched high, propped up by the discontent piling up every second there wasn't a latte in her hand.

"Fine," the girl huffed, "I'll go."

"Warm chai, darling, with extra whipped cream and caramel drizzle. Thanks, boo." waved Minnie with a smile.

The other girls were quick to fill in her spot on the divan. "Finally she's gone. I mean, did you see what she was wearing?"

"I know. Who wears those hippie wedges in Paris? Ugh. Get real."

"Yeah, and did you see what she posted on Twitter? I'm so not letting her borrow my lip glosses ever again."

Minnie tried to remain immune to her friends' squabble. She was just as tempted to scroll through her newsfeeds for gossip as they were, but something brought her above the influence. It all seemed so dull now. Perhaps becoming sixteen would bring her a new clarity, a new maturity that she could feel growing on her already. But many others had turned sixteen before her and they only remained themselves. Carter Muto, for instance. He was the only one Minako knew long enough to say if there were a change in him or not. And aside from his broader shoulders and his deepening voice, there wasn't much change at all. He was still that same old Carter; still smiling through rain, still top of the class, still kind, and loyal, and selfless. And still there for her.

Oh, Minako remembered how fun it used to be to hang out with the Mutos. Back when her nurse still worked in the Kaiba mansion, she'd take her to all sorts of places her father was too proud or too busy for. Her nurse used to let her play in the park with Howard and Carter until the sun came sliding down the summer skies. It was all so simple then. Minako never did understand her name and what it meant to be a part of such wealth, and neither did Carter. But even when he did learn with years, he never minded. It was she who was ruled by it.

The nurse was fired around the time she began middle school. Also around the time she and Carter began to part, or perhaps because of it. Then there was no time for playing in the park. Minnie had to grow up. Daddy didn't want to carry around a child all the time. Daddy didn't want to clean up her mistakes, or take too long at stores. He needed another assistant, not a daughter. And that's what she had to become. Carter would just have to wait until an appointment opened up. But none ever did until the day they dueled. The day he beat her and promised never to speak of her loss again.

She smirked to herself. He still had yet to tell. He still had that same loving, warm, and honourable heart.

The friend returned with her latte grumpily. She must have known her absence would leave an opening for the other's to strike at her turned back. Minnie tested the latte for any misunderstanding. The worst feeling was when someone got her order wrong and then she'd have to trouble herself with scolding them. Life was hard for the rich girl.

"O-M-G." another girl rose from the divan with her phone dead ahead. "No way."

"What? What is it?"

Minnie was trying too hard to mind the latte instead of the drama her friends were bound to unleash. But this time she could not escape it. This time it would bite back, and it would bite hard.

"Minnie, you are so not going to believe this. You'll never guess what Squealy-Wheely just posted on her facebook."

"Wheeler? Please. If she's still mad about that comment I made in biology class, I'm not-"

"No. It's bigger than that." she held out her phone to Minnie.

She cocked an eyebrow. Her stomach churned around the words and expressions of her friends. This really must have been bigger than a nasty facebook status if it could get all the girls to hold their tongues. Minnie slowly reached for it, sitting up straight and dignified as if no stone could ever weight her shoulders. She could handle whatever life threw at her. She was a Kaiba. Her eyes fell onto Lola Wheeler's status, and then blurred with tears.

_"omg so happy right now. Woke up this morning to the best surprise in the world. My big bro is back from prison on parole and words can not describe how incredibly proud I am to have him here with me. Literally tears are still streaming down my eyes. Thank whoever is listening up there for keeping him safe and bringing him home. Ive got the best big brother in the world and ive missed him so much. Welcome home Jacob Wheeler."_

**End Chapter**

**Thanks For Reading**

* * *

**_Answers:_**

**_1. Yes, Jaden Yuki will show up around here somewhere. Have no fear._**

**_2. No, Minako and Carter aren't related. Just old friends._**

**_3. Pharah likes to listen to Mohamed Hamaki, Myriam Fares, WAMA, and The Cranberries._**


	10. Spotlights

**"Please, Om. Please, Baba. **I love you!" pleaded Pharah. She lunged herself towards her adoptive parents, yearning for their arms around her. Yet she could never reach them. They sat as giants above her; forever distant, forever trapping her beneath their stance. Shadows of deep blues and violets cloaked the scrutiny of their visage, but the sharp edges of it pierced through any darkness, impaling the very core of dear Pharah's existence. Inside, she knew to run. She knew to find Yugi somewhere near a river's edge. She knew to run to his pretty wife, or to Lola, or to the twins. But as she turned and turned to find an escape, no glimmer of Yugi's love, of Tea's care, of Lola's vibrance was ever found. Her subconscious shackled her there beneath Om and Baba, beneath the giants that kept her in the dark and the shadows.

"You left, Pharah." Om sobbed. The ache of her voice tangled within echoes where the whispering regret there lived by Pharah's ears. "Didn't you think of my heart, banafsegy? My dear child. I thought we raised you better. So much. I made ful mudammas and you left me."

Pharah tried again to reach for Om. Her dress was so unbearably heavy with water that no matter how she heaved, she never made it any closer to them. Her hair was drenched and stuck to her skin every time she turned. She looked around to all the shaded faces of her brothers and sisters- to Zeyad, Abdullah, and Faisal, to Malia and Badi'ah. No one could help her. No one wanted to. She struggled against herself, against the darkness closing in around her. They again and again chanted that she would never be free. One day when the sun does not rise, they said, one day when the birds do not sing. The one day that would never breathe a breath of life. She'd never be strong enough to lift herself from the water, to reach the surface before drowning.

"Om! Baba!" Pharah cried, the fight torn from her. "Please, I didn't mean to-"

A cough shuttered through her. It burned and quaked, seized her entire being with its vicious strength. Water poured from her mouth as some acidic waterfall and formed puddles at her feet. She wanted to scream for her "om", scream for her help. That's what mothers were supposed to do, right? Help their children when they are ill, comfort them when they can not cease writhing as vomit spews from their bodies- even if it is simply the regurgitation of water. She was choking, drowning, squirming, and all the while crying. Crying from the pain. Crying from the look of her parents as they did nothing to aid her. Om and Baba never once moved. They sat as some gods would on a mighty and high throne; like stones, like statues.

It was as though she were truly drowning in herself. Pressure and hurt all snaked through her, and soon bubbles had risen above her- each one carrying an unrequited, unknown, un-breathed dream. And then a light. The surface, perhaps. Or even the end. A golden eye appeared before her, tearing through all the deceit and all the shadows. It parted a path between Om and Baba, past Pharah's brothers and sisters. All so suddenly she was dry again. There was air coursing through her calmly and a warmth caressing her dearly. She squinted through its rays at first, but then felt welcomed by the light floating over her. More shadows dissipated at the power of the eye, and Pharah found a whole golden figure in the new enlightenment. A whole golden pyramid fighting the darkness away.

"Pharah," a deep, endearing voice cradled her from all around. "Pharah, it's time."

No darkness remained then. She was surrounded all in white. All in a warm, loving, light.

"Time for what? Who are you?" she trembled.

"It's time." it only spoke. "Pharah, it's time."

The light blinded her for a moment before giving way to the ceiling of Howard Muto's old room. Her eyes flicked open a few times, slowly rising to the sunlight floating in the room. Pharah fell back down into her body. She felt the blankets around her. She felt her head smoothed down into the pillow. She felt herself breathing- not drowning- in this still unfamiliar world where Om and Baba were nowhere to be seen. Little, innocent chirps whistled in from the outside over the light rush of an air conditioner. It was rather tranquil from where she laid comfortably and still. At first it could have been just like waking in her old home; a silence in a familiar solitude. But then she remembered how hard that cot was, how many times she had to share a room with the Tawfiqs. She saw how open the window was as well. Om would have never allowed that. Never. She was safe with the Mutos. They did, after all, let her eat whatever she pleased without testing her.

The Egyptian teen left her nest of blankets for the sunbathed window sill. From what Pharah understood so far, whenever the sun loomed through the windows at that height, the twins would have long since left for that thing they called "school". Whatever that was. Tea would often leave as well, although each time it seemed to be for a different reason. There must have been so much to do out here in the world that she could scramble anywhere on any given day. Pharah thought of the day she'd get to see it all. Maybe she'd write a book like the ones Om read to her, maybe she'd dance for people as Om had taught her, maybe she'd be able to talk and meet new people. But her voice; it still went unused. She had so much to say, so many questions. But every time she went for a word, something tugged back the sound. Something that squirmed, something that yearned. Something that missed Om and Baba so dreadfully much.

"Pharah?" Yugi's voice floated over his knocking on the door. He opened it slightly, knowing that Pharah wouldn't exactly reply, and jumped around. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I just wanted to know if you were up."

She bowed her head respectfully. Baba beat the manners into her, and she sure as hell would never forget them. Always bow when an elder enters. Always smile like you have a secret. Never speak unless spoken to.

"Um, are you hungry? I mean, I'm no chef, but if you want I could whip something up for you."

A smile formed immediately. She nodded her head with great enthusiasm that lit up Yugi's face as well.

"Alright then! C'mon, let's see what we can find, ok?"

She followed Yugi down into the kitchen that still smelled of last night's cinnamon confections. Tea had organized everything before her leave as some daily ritual, and left no dish unwashed. Pharah noted this every morning; where all the plates and bowls were stacked, how many cups and glasses cuddled in the racks, the amount of petals that had dripped from the vase onto the table, how the wash cloths were a different color every day. That day in particular was yellow, though Pharah had yet to correspond the colors to any sort of symbolism in Tea's life. That would require more detail. And there were precisely six petals on the table from the sunflowers as opposed to yesterday's four. To most, such meager things would go unnoticed. But not to Pharah. These were clues into the world she now lived in, a glimpse at the routines of these "outsiders".

Pharah took her seat at the table while Yugi unearthed the pancake mix and other alien foods. This she also paid very close attention to. In her home, she was a master of the kitchen- from _mahshi hamām_ to lamb kebabs. But here she was a stranger to the spices, procedures, and tastes. Until a few dinners ago, she'd been ignorant to the flavors of sushi and onigiri. She'd never known the delights of overpriced marshmallow cereals bearing the smiles of cartoon animals and leprechauns. Already her taste-buds had faced war and treaties with every new sensation and only a week had gone by. What came as even more surprising to her was that foods came in boxes of vibrant colors and words. When Om brought food home, it was a in a basket; raw ingredients fresh from the gardens and the river. Never boxes with every instruction and ingredient labeled obviously for the kitchen-impaired.

"I hope you like your eggs scrambled since it's the only way I know how to make them." laughed Yugi with a blush. Pharah smiled in suit. She shook her head lightly and joined his side at the stove. If there were ever a time to prove her use, she supposed it was this. She could do something. She didn't have to be babied. That was why she ran away, isn't it? To be worth something?

Yugi looked at her for a moment before realizing it was the skillet she was after. He let her take the handle and work her magic.

"O-Ok. You know how to cook?"

She glared as if that were the most ignorant of questions to ask.

"Right. Sorry. Well, I'll get started on the pancakes then. Let me know if you need anything."

She didn't know if he were simply being his usual, kind self, or if he were prompting her to speak. Either way seemed plausible. But she took it in stride and did what she did best without his help at all. She found cheeses and spices to throw into her dazzling omelettes after memorizing the layout of the kitchen. And before Yugi knew it, he was sitting with a princess of Egypt, eating the most splendid breakfast he'd had in so very long. Pharah orchestrated eggs and sausages, adding flavors he never would have agreed to otherwise. His pancakes were less than round or abound with flavor, but being able to see Pharah's smile made everything just that much sweeter. There was even a laugh. A true sound of her voice as she giggled with the tingle of sweet, sweet syrup in her mouth. Yugi sparked at the sound, as small a thing it was.

All the sudden he was filled with the memories of Yami. In her laugh came thoughts of when he'd question him about the trivial everyday things: What is a date? Why is there school? Why is this popular? Just the same, as Pharah doesn't know much of the modern world, the Pharaoh fought the same struggles. Pharah must have sensed the air around the kitchen had changed with Yugi's contemplations. Her eyes trapped him with hard, purple edges. And just like her father's, escape from them was nearly impossible. Yugi scrambled for something to say, maybe compliment the tenderness of the girl's laugh, maybe ask if she wanted seconds.

"Well, you sure know how to cook, Pharah! Heh, maybe I should just call you for-"

"You look like me." she said plainly. It was simple, blatant, and monotone. If anything, it cut just a little deeper than her eyes in that it caught Yugi so off-guard.

He was stunned. His eyes wide, his heart frost bitten where it had froze. Her first words beckoned for the longest story, fairytale, and truth he'd been pondering how to tell since he laid eyes on the girl. He knew he couldn't keep it from her forever. That would be as low and as cruel as the Tawfiqs had done. Someday he figured she'd have to be told. It was just that right then and right there came as too much of a shock, and he wasn't sure _he_ was ready. A part of him was reminded of the time Howard asked him where babies came from. That too was a long, dreadful talk that probably ended in Howard having the most deranged ideas of sex. Yugi was never much good at explaining under such a hot, burning spotlight.

At last he sighed and looked down at the crumbs of his delicious meal. This wasn't going to come easy. Even if he painted every truth with every detail, how likely would it be that Pharah would understand? The girl didn't know how to take a bath on her own. How was she going to understand what Duel Monsters were, or tournaments, or spirits locked in puzzles, and why and how everything was what it was?

"Yes, well, there's a kind of a long story behind it all. But," he paused to find the yearning aquiver in her eyes, "you have every right to know. That is why you ran from the Tawfiqs in the first place, isn't it? To find out who you are, where you come from?"

She nodded gently.

"Hm. Let's start way back in Ancient Egypt, in a time where great and powerful pharaohs ruled over the lands. You see how your name sounds like 'pharaoh'?" he teased. Pharah laughed, scooting closer to Yugi's side. As he spoke, her eyes never left his. She envisioned everything that flowed from his lips; the sands, the cities, the pyramids. She knew it all. Yugi livened with every sparkle in her eye. His voice rose whenever he spoke of Great Pharaoh Atem, and trembled with eeriness and suspense whenever he told of the Thief King Bakura. The story wrapped all around her, orchestrated by Yugi''s hand gestures and expressions. Sometimes he even stood away from the table to demonstrate an action, to hear her laugh or gasp with excitement. He spoke of monsters trapped in stones, of shadow games and of mighty battles, and a lovely young magician named Mana.

She had never felt so alive. For a dead girl, at least.

* * *

**Minako's assistant couldn't have **been any more oblivious to the turmoil that churned her thoughts. They waited for the elevator to reach the top floor, where then Minako would come face to face with her father. But in the mean time the assistant would fix the heiress into perfection; swiping away any stray hairs, positioning her pearl necklace, and adjusting her floral blouse. Minnie's chocolate hair was scooped back, save for her bold bangs, and fastened with her signature Kaiba Corp logo hairclip. And perfection it was indeed, only that it felt tragic in knowing that she had to get dressed up just to see her father. Business men from all around the globe would come in and out of this building, and what was one to think if the heiress showed up in sweats and tank top?

But that wasn't the point. That wasn't what drew the sweat over her brow, what made her heart thump in her ears, or the rattling of the elevator squeal in the back of her head. Her assistant would never understand. The woman was too preoccupied with fixing their appearances and arriving on schedule. That daft, daft woman! Minako cringed knowing that she was locked in a tight space with her- with another human being! A fury sprouted from nothing, from the silence that had passed between them. All so suddenly, she just wanted to cry and to scream, to tear this woman apart!

"I could do it." she thought. "I really could. It could be so easy to just end it all."

The doors parted to the top floor. Her father's office was just down the hall. Everything around her was the vomit of wealth- marble floors, exotic plants, bulletproof windows in place of solid walls. And that dry pungency of success and rolled bills encumbered every spec in the building. Minako breathed deep and painful. She didn't see her father often, but when she did, it always brought that pain.

She couldn't help but notice all the twiggy figures in body-con skirts. All the pretty, proper faces and their "accidentally" cleavage-showing dress shirts. This one worked in mailing, this one came from Spain, that one answered the phones in her Italian accent, the other had hooked up with one of the security guards downstairs. And yet they still were all the same. The same gorgeous face, the same red lips, the same agenda in mind. Minako didn't want to believe any of them had worked "extra hours" with her father, but just as well, any one of them could have been like her mother. Just the same. Minako was, after all, Seto Kaiba's greatest miscalculation. Nine months after a one night stand with another skinny nobody, Seto had an unscheduled appointment with his lawyers, the doctors, and a pair of blue eyes he wasn't so obsessed about.

Whenever she saw these women acting like their bodies could be traded for gold, she always thought of her mother. There wasn't much to her after all. Not even memories. A pretty face, slender legs, and a tiny waist. Seto never wanted a daughter, never had time for a wife. And certainly Minako's mother was never a suitable prospect. Her only goal was to win Seto's money. Which she did, at least for a while. She was fired, banned from Kaiba Corp, and- were it not for a female judge- would have lost any visitation rights. She died after contracting some viral menace in her days of prostitution. When Minnie was quite young too, and the only reason she remembered it was because her father came home to comfort her. That was the only thing that meant something. Now Minnie could see the ripple it caused; these women wanted to get pregnant. They wanted to file for child support. They wanted the chance to make their offspring heirs and heiresses like the whore before them. It only made her fears worse.

"Alright, at least we're on time. Your father is with someone right now, but he'll be done in about five minutes." said the assistant promptly. "Is there anything I can get you while you wait?"

"Uh... yeah. Just a soda for now."

"Of course, Miss Kaiba."

_Of course, Miss Kaiba. Of course, of course, of course. _They could all fetch her drinks and gravel at her feet, but damn, could anyone ask her what was wrong? Could anyone, for one second, see that her life _wasn't_ perfect? She sat herself in one of the chairs outside her dad's office. The clock stared against her on the opposite wall, ticking away at every unwelcomed, enflamed nerve. Didn't anyone notice her fidgeting? Did no one care that her mother was a whore just like them and died anyways? Didn't anyone hear how Zeyad Tawfiq's words echoed like gun shots in her head?

_"You got lucky this time, you little bitch. It's not going to be so easy for you when we duel. You're going to be begging for this dick just so you can pretend you're important again. Just like you did for Jacob's."_

A slut. A worthless, desperate slut. Like her mother. That's what it all translated to. That's what he called her. And Jacob, now returned from prison; what would he do if he found her so weak? What if she saw him again? What if Lola brings him to school or follows her to the mall? Was there no way to bury her mistakes, a way to escape it?

"Your father is ready for you now, Miss Kaiba."

Her body leapt at the announcement. She hoped that in all her plotting and reminiscing that she'd not painted a crazed face for all to see. Because now she felt exposed, vulnerable, and even guilty. The moment her father was to look upon her face, she feared all her secrets might melt from her very soul. Somehow he'd know. He always did. She supposed it had a lot to do with sharpening himself to the world of business and economics, but even so. She straightened herself, took a deep breath, and walked through the threshold.

The door slid closed behind her and at last it she and her father. The room stifled out any noise from the outside, leaving a harsh, deafening silence, and a greater power to the voices confined within. She spoke first.

"Hello, father. You wished to see me?

"Yes," he spun his chair towards her, folding his hands together in a way that showed he meant business- as if he could ever mean anything else- "Last night I received an urgent phone call from the chairman of Kaiba Corp Egypt. Do you know who that is, Minako?"

"No, father. I regret that I do not."

"Well, if you ever plan on running this company in my footsteps, you had better start learning about its branches and its members."

"Yes. I will do that."

"Naguib Tawfiq. I believe you know the name very well."

Her eyes grew wide. Again and again, all she could see was Zeyad Tawfiq grabbing her shoulders violently, hear the venom in his words. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

"It seems his son Zeyad had some unpleasant encounter with you the other night."

"Father, please, I-"

He held up his hand and Minako fell silent again.

"Zeyad has it in his head that you've accused him of rape and harassment, and now Naguib is intent on calling you out as a lying harlot who desires only to ruin Zeyad's reputation as a high-ranking duelist."

"No, father! I've not accused anyone anything!"

"You know how important your duel with Zeyad is, Minako! If you beat him, you are the champion. You win the title of Queen of Games. And as much as I value winning, we do not accomplish it by lying and cheating. I host hundreds of Duel Monster tournaments and games around the world, Minako. Everyone knows this company's name, and I will not have it marred with rumors of how my daughter is playing dirty. You understand what that would mean if people believed that we cheat and lie?"

"I was not playing dirty, father. Zeyad is the one who is the liar, not me!" she grit her teeth.

"_Do you understand, Minako_?"

"You won't even listen to me! I am trying to tell you that I did nothing! Please, father, Zeyad did attack me. The security guards who pulled him off me can vouche for that. And as much as I wanted to, I did not publicly accuse him of any rape or assault or pigheadedness. And it is _because_ I '_understand' _what that would mean for the Kaiba name that I stayed quiet. From headlining as 'The Newborn Heiress' on the day of my birth, to my recent altercation with Lola Wheeler, I have lived in this media spotlight all my life. I know how it works. Please, father. Zeyad is lying just to make me look bad! He is the one playing dirty!"

Seto took a moment to assess his daughter. She was fuming, and with such a short fuse. The media would have no problem pushing her to that breaking point if this continued any further.

"And since you know so much about the media spotlight then, Minako, what would you propose we do?"

It was a trap. Minako had walked right into that one; and now her answer would determine much of how her father viewed her and her eligibility to become president of Kaiba Corp. She stood with the face of a much frightened deer, searching for words, searching for the thing her father most wanted to hear.

"Uh... um... we should... I..."

Seto leaned in closer.

"I could refute the claims to the media, and then... um..."

"And then strike a war between you and Zeyad, firing accusations one after the other, and the press camping outside your bedroom window? Is that it? That's what you want?"

"N-No! I mean, well... I could just...um..."

"You could just destroy him in a duel. End it all with one final battle with the whole world watching."

Of course. Why hadn't she thought of that? Her father's whole existence only revolved around card games.

"It's already settled. You and Zeyad will duel in the greatest duel the world has seen in years on the fourteenth of April. There in the Kaiba Dome will all rumors, allegations, and truths be revealed."

"Truths?" the word was hardly audible. Her breath was stolen away with her father's revelation. If by truths he meant her past, Minako would have rather died under the disdain of an eighteen-wheeler than face the impending wrath of Seto Kaiba. The world would know the truth about Jacob and about her, about her whorish mother and selfishness that bred Minako's own self. The world would know how she ached, but would beat her again and again. She could not face that. Not now. Not ever. Not April fourteenth.

She was about to turn and leave when her again spoke coldly; "Strange that two separate people would be charged with the same crime against you."

Minako paused in the doorway. "And Jacob _did_ rape me. I've told you a thousand times, and a thousand times more. My story has not changed since the day it happened. But you have still done nothing."

The door closed behind her, again parting her and her father.

* * *

**"So, how was school?"** Yugi smiled at his boys.

"Eh. School is school." The twins replied in unison. "Did mom make anything to eat?"

"No," he nodded to the dining room, "but Pharah did."

The twins' eyes lit up. Across the table were treats and goodies of Egyptian delights. Everything glowed with drizzles and sugars, or tanned with spices and warmth. Scents of foreign adventure piled high into the air and constricted the boys into wanting a taste of every last thing. They threw their backpacks down immediately and scurried excitedly to the table.

"Wow, Pharah! This is amazing!"

"Yeah, how'd you do all this?"

She looked up at Yugi for support, tinkering her hands that still wore the over mits. Yugi gave her a small nudge from behind, urging her closer to the boys, and smiled with the OK.

"I... I thought it would be nice, is all."

Their mouths dropped. Howard's food fell from his mouth and onto the table in the most unattractive way. But Yugi was there to give them a stern look. He never appeared all that intimidating, but his sons knew well enough what was to ensue if their behavior was not up to par.

"You talked! So you're not a mute. Well, this is good news." Carter teased.

"Good news indeed, Carter. And it seems Pharah not only has the talent of speech, but of cooking. My, Carter, this is quite an eventful day her in Domino. I'm Howard Muto, Muto House News, signing off. Pharah, back to you."

Pharah only wished she understood the joke, but forced a small laugh anyways. The twins pulled out a chair for her to join them, and Yugi soon followed too. Everyone's sugar need for the week was fulfilled with Pharah's endless buffet of sweets. And, not that the twins would ever say aloud, but they found themselves more in love with Pharah's Egyptian delicacies than their mom's_ anything_.

She watched the family interact. The smiles, the laughs, the banter she tried not to take so seriously. Om and Baba never laughed like that. Om and Baba never shared food as they had. Om and Baba never asked how her day was, never cared to hear her thoughts on any subject, never had been so connected as these Mutos were. She wondered what role her father would have played in this scene. Where would he have sat? What jokes would he have told? Was his smile as tender and as honest as these? And would he have watched with as much intrigue as she? Did he know that foods came in bright assortments of packages, or that cell phones did not steal people's voices? How did he learn so quickly to live in this whole new world?

She knew where she came from. Or, at least had a piece to the puzzle. She knew of Atem and of Mana. She knew their names, she knew their stories. But she didn't know them. And that would never be enough.

"Well, dad, now that Pharah is talking, I think it's time she comes to school with us." said Carter.

"School?" Pharah questioned.

"Oh, yeah. It's a place where young people go to learn."

"Learn what?"

"A whole bunch of things! History, reading, writing, algebra, music, art, languages- you name it!"

"I can learn where the people in the TV come from!" she cheered.

"Well, um," Yugi scratched his head, "sort of. I don't know, Carter. Pharah isn't exactly familiar with the society's rules and even the technology."

"Oh, c'mon, dad. Me and Carter can keep an eye on her. No big deal. The best way to learn is to expose her to it. That's what you always said."

"Yes, when I was referring to Duel Monsters."

"So, it's the same basic idea! You learn to roll with the punches. You can teach someone how to deal with situations as much as you'd like, but you'll never exactly know what to do unless you experience it. You can teach me and Howard to fly an airplane with a good 'ol textbook and video tutorial, but as soon as I get into the cockpit, it's going to get crazy."

"Hope I'm not a passenger on that plane." Howard coughed.

There was a moment for Yugi to think. He looked over at Pharah, whose face was as clueless as it was hopeful. Sure the girl had no real idea what she'd be getting into, but inside Yugi knew the truth. He couldn't shelter her forever. The Tawfiqs had already done that. His sons were raised right and could be some good lawyers if they weren't so preoccupied with games and snowboarding. There really was no way for him to win the argument.

"Well, I guess it's up to you, Pharah. Do you feel ready for school?"

She looked to Howard and Carter who were nodding their heads furiously behind their father's back. School sounded too good to be true with the promise of such bountiful education, but it also meant going outside. Again the voice from her dream slipped from her heart and into her voice.

"It's time." she smiled.

**End Chapter**

**Thanks For Reading**

* * *

**Another video is up about Mary-Sues (which I never planned on doing, but I felt it was relevant.) Ahron Rhine on youtube.**

* * *

**:**

**1.) Pharah is into historical dramas and "kid" movies, Howard likes sci-fi, Carter and Jacob like action and horrors, Lola and Rowan love comedies, Minako enjoys chick-flicks and romance.**

**2). Their favorite movies. This one was hard for me to answer, but this is what I got.**

**Pharah - "Tangled" (for obvious reasons). ****Howard Muto- The Star Wars saga. ****Carter Muto - "The DaVinci Code". ****Jacob Wheeler- "Zombieland". ****Lola Wheeler - "Galaxy Quest" (FTW!). ****Rowan Taylor - "Role Models". ****Minako Kaiba - "Mean Girls"**

**3.) Again, hard to keep them in character, but everyone's favorite TV shows. A lot of research went into these:**

**Pharah - "Chasing Mummies". ****Howard Muto - "Doctor Who". C****arter Muto - "The Big Bang Theory". ****Jacob Wheeler - "The Walking Dead". ****Lola Wheeler - "Man Vs Food", "SpongeBob". ****Rowan Taylor - "Adventure Time" (NO!). Minako Kaiba - "Project Runway" / "Pretty Little Liars".**

**4.) At this point, Pharah does not have a set fashion. She is given clothes Tea and Yugi buy that they think she will like. Later on her fashion is nothing fancy like Minako's, but more casual like sweaters, leggings, and basic boots and anything with tribal or Egyptian flare.**


	11. The Eruption of Fates

If there was one thing Mai knew for sure, it was that Lola was going to live a better life than her. Whether she liked it or not. Mai would never allow herself to abandon her daughter- no matter how difficult parenting was, no matter the attitudes or insult Lola would spit in her anger. And, more importantly, Lola was going to be somebody. Maybe she wasn't the richest, and maybe she wasn't the brightest, but Mai would do everything she could to ensure Lola grew up knowing she was loved and had every opportunity to succeed. But this meant getting Lola out of bed in the morning to attend school; which, quite frankly, was rather similar to holding a fish underwater and hoping it would drown.

This was war, and in it came great sacrifices. Mai woke up earlier than she had to just to make sure her hot-headed daughter was up and out. Her eyes would roll knowing that Joey sure as hell wouldn't do it. But this was something she was getting used to; tearing Lola out of her warm blanket cocoon, opening the windows to the sunlight and frosty morning air, even pouring water onto the sleeping blonde. Some mornings came smoother than others, but today Lola's subconscious was feeling extra spiteful as her mother deployed every tactic and missile.

"Lola Serenity Wheeler!" Mai's voice broke through the whole house, "You will get the hell out of this bed and march your way to school, or so help me, not a single video game will be played under this roof for the rest of the month."

Lola tossed herself away and groaned an awful sound, yet no other attempts to awaken had seemingly been made.

"Ugh! That's it! Get up!" this time her voice chopped at every powerful syllable, as if she too were ready to hack into her daughter.

"Get-up-_now_!"

"_Mom_..." came an odious whine from the teen.

"Do you want to keep hanging out with Howard, Carter, and Pharah after school?"

"Yes!"

"Then get up!" she gave the girl a shove.

Lola thought to herself a moment. Sure, she could endure her mother's wrath a few moments longer. She'd just pretend to be too much asleep that she couldn't remember any of it. Big deal. But could she actually manage another absence from school? Could she stand her mother's scowl and disappointment for a full twenty-four hours? Another tardy would land her straight into Mr. Morita's office, but another absence would be spending the rest of the school year in her mother's temper. This forced her legs over the edge of the bed as she rubbed her eyes.

"What time is it?" she croaked.

"Seven fifteen. You might want to hurry."

"Seven fifteen? No! I have cheerleading practice before classes start today! Aw man, no, no, no. I am so dead." she burst over her cluttered floor and nearly slammed into her dresser. "Mom, why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"I _did_. I came in here at six, then six thirty, and then seven. But _you_, young lady-"

"Ok, ok. Just get out of my room, I've got to get ready. Damn."

A victorious smirk curled onto Mai's lips. Without another word, she tiptoed over skateboard decks, climbed over hills of dirty clothes, and trudged through a swamp of torn magazine pages. If she could wake the beast up in the morning, perhaps she could get her to clean her own room too. Somehow, she'd find a way.

Lola hobbled into her practice uniform; black spandex shorts, a loose pink shirt she couldn't trouble herself with tucking in, and a blue cheerleading bow. Her layers and layers of gold locks managed to out-mess even the floor of her room, but there was no time to get picky. She scooped it all away in a loping ponytail before cramming her books, her school uniform, and her Duel Monsters into her bag. If everyone else in the house wasn't up by then, they certainly would have been at the sound of her feet rolling over the stairs like a heavy waterfall.

"Mom!" she called, swinging into the kitchen. The room still smelled of last night's concoctions, with that ever-present bacon twang the had crusted into the air. For Lola, nothing made mornings worth waking to but food.

"Oh, Lola, dear." Mai rolled her eyes. "Will you please do something with your hair?"

Lola swatted her mother's hands away when she reached for her stray blonde. "No, mom, I didn't have time."

"You never have time. Why can't you ever do your hair nice? I mean, can't you act like a girl for once? Why not let me do your hair?"

"You've been barking up that tree since there was hair on her head, mom. It's Lola, you know she's never gonna budge." a deep chuckle came through the kitchen. Jacob gave his sister a shove out of his way before leaping onto the counter in time to grab his toast.

"Jacob! You're hardly back two days and, damn it, you're already on the counter. How many times have I told you? You sit on the chairs, not the tables. Get off." Mai hurled a wash cloth at him.

"Mom, I'm a grown ass man." not even his time in prison could mar that goofy, childish grin of his.

"You're nineteen. Get the hell off my counter." she stated plainly.

"Mom! This is all very nice and all, but I still need you to give me a ride to school. I'm already late to practice." Lola cut in with attitude.

"Well whose goddamn fault is that? I made it clear before the school year started, I have to be at work by seven-thirty, there's no time to drop you off."

Before Lola and Mai could have another go at it, Jacob tunneled his way between the crossfire- having learned the skill after years of adapting to these kinds of mornings. His jestering smile had a way of diffusing any bombs within the two. He swiped his jangling keys from his pocket with a slight laugh. "Don't worry about it. I got it. I'll give her a ride. Besides, I've gotta get to work soon anyways."

That opened Mai's eyes wide. "Y-You... You have a job?"

"Yeah. Ushio's tattoo parlor. Having a job is part of my parole regiment- duh."

"Well, I suppose that's a good thing. It's more than your father does, that's for sure." she sighed.

"Well, see you later, mom. Come now, Lola, we ride." he waved, ushering Lola out of the house as quickly as he could. Even when being helped, Lola bore every drop of stubbornness she gained from both of her parents. She dragged her feet to her brother's rundown Genesis and kicked her feet up on the dashboard when she finally scooted in to the confined area. Jacob's incomprehensible metal music was blaring the moment her turned the key. And thus the Wheelers went, disturbing the whole neighborhood in their passing.

* * *

**Her fingers flirted with the keys** of the piano. They tickled the milk keys, making them giggle in rhythm, but never long enough for her fingers to fall in love. They quickly flew to the next and the then next again; the playboys of the piano, with no trace but for the perfect tune of heartbroken keys.

And the tune Minako let fly from her twiddling fingers spoke as arrant as a therapist nearing retirement; an angry, frustrated, melancholy speech that bore no compassion when addressing all her flaws. And still nothing brought more life to the Kaiba girl than this- making her piano sing with everything her heart has been coveting selfishly. She did this every morning before heading off to school. She had her very own Feurich piano which she could play all she wished by her bedside balcony. Here her notes could rival those of the birds harping away in the gardens, and she played every single day just to prove she was better than them.

She was trapped in it. It was just her and the music. Notes weeping, keys bouncing, a swirl of perfection and dread in a musical meditation. This was why she bothered to wake in the morning. Who else would put those daring, commoner birds to shame? What else would she live for without someone commanding her to?

"Miss Kaiba," a quaint voice intruded after a small knock on the bedroom door, "are you well?"

Minnie slammed a monstrous note. It quaked through her long, bony fingers as well as the petite maid hovering in the doorway of her room. The surprise of reality, sneaking up as it did, sent disdain marching down the alleys of her veins. In her music, she had true friends, true smiles, people who listened to her when she was telling her side of the goddamn story. In her music, there was a father that kept her steady and supported all her notes. Reality lost that melody long, long ago. So why in the hell would she bother with such a song as that?

She turned brokenly. "Yes. I am fine, Celine. What do you want?"

"Please, forgive me, Miss Kaiba. But the driver is waiting out front to take you to school, and... you haven't come down all morning, ma'am. I thought that, perhaps, you were ill." she looked down into her clasped hands.

"Oh." Minako returned with a pale light. "I must have gotten carried away with the music."

"And you play beautifully, ma'am."

"I know." she snapped. "Well, can't be late for school. So," rolling her eyes in that manner only a Kaiba can do, Minako gathered her Fendi tote and books. She pushed past the wee servant, bearing malice in every step she took.

"I'll be having friends over when I return from school. Have the hot tub ready for us by the time we get back. Eighteen Celsius will do."

"Yes, ma'am. Of course."

She checked quickly the Patek Philippe watch encircling her wrist. A few ticks past seven and she was already late for cheerleading practice. Her- Minako Kaiba, the_ captain_. How embarrassing. This was why she never should have left the music, because now as she rattled the stairs in her descent, reality has again brought discords of tension. All of which sizzled under the surface of her skin like magma churning. Everything about life, no matter how lavished and fancied, was getting worse and worse every single day. Why wouldn't it end? Why wouldn't her pearls and designer labels tell her they loved her, laugh along with her? Why did Seto even bother to keep her? This horrid mansion; was it a present or a pen to cage her? Not even the most glamorous wallpaper in the world could hide the prison bars beneath.

Finally she reached the door, seething in this wretched morning. An old butler stood just in her way. What could anyone want from her now?

"Get out of my way." she spat.

"Miss Kaiba, I do apologize. I know you are in a rush, but-" he could not finish. Minnie was rubbing shoulders with him before he could utter another sound. She opened the door, ready to lock herself in the Rolls Royce awaiting her in the driveway and never come back.

"Please, Minnie. There is a gift here from your father." shouted the man.

She stopped. The "F" word could have such an effect as that; to freeze her body and mind, her ponderings prancing around one thought. The thought of how dearly she loved him. Minnie hated how desperate it all sounded. Who the hell cared about some stupid gift? It was probably another custom duel disk, only this time to remind her of her upcoming duel with Zeyad. Fists clenched, eyes rolled. She would not allow herself to hope. Not again. Not ever! But, damn, if it was a piece of her father, she wanted it no matter how cruel a joke it was. Minnie raced back to the butler who held out a small, velvet box in his hands.

"He hopes it will do some good for you, miss." he bowed his head.

Minnie pointedly mocked the box with those razor, blue eyes. And after contemplating how weak and vulnerable she felt, she simply nodded, and cupped the box into her grip. The Rolls Royce honked again, badgering the heiress about how late she already was.

"Thank you," she said.

The box would sit unopened the whole ride to school. Minnie could not let it best her. The thought of falling under Seto's thumb once more would keep her torn from whatever treasure may have been locked inside. No. She would be stronger than it. She would be stronger than any temptation _ever_ was. This would not be Eve's apple, or Pandora's wretched box. That stupid, stupid box! Stupid present, stupid father! Who did he think she was? Could he buy her forgiveness with necklaces and pearls? Could he pay her to forget their mishaps and harsh words, and just... move on? Did her father truly believe her love could be bought?

Minako didn't have to think about it much. The truth had already been there from that night on Spring Break... that night with Jacob Wheeler. She wouldn't even have to be bought; she'd throw herself at her father's knees if need be. And that was what she hated most, what made her music sound so terribly wonderful.

Her phone buzzed beside her. Each of her friends bothered sending her some irritated text- "_where r u_?", "_hurry the fuck up_", "_im going to be late bcuz of u"._ Part of the problem of being so wealthy in high school was that suddenly you became a taxi service for the popular. Normally she'd have picked them all up by now and would have been snickering about what so-and-so said about so-and-so. But when Minnie thought about it, she wouldn't mind leaving them home for the day. They'd forgice her sooner or late, though, right? That's what friends do, right? _Right_? And what if... what if without their cackles and the circle they'd make around her...perhaps there could be a moment for Carter? He would know what to do. And even if he didn't, he'd still smile like he did.

That would be more than she could ask for.

* * *

**"Well, there's no point in going to **practice now." Jacob sighed. "Am I dropping you off at the main entrance or...?"

Lola sat a moment. Just still. Just focusing on the faint outlines of herself in the window's reflection. The school's all-powerful clock rings in the hour like a muezzin from the minarets. Eight o'clock commands that all students be seated in their classes, and yet Lola did not move. She flicked at the door lock a few times, hardly feeling, hardly existing.

"Lols? Aren't you gonna get out?" he pulled the car to the curb. "You sure as hell are not falling asleep in my car. I gotta get my ass to work."

A heavy breath fell from her lips. And slowly, the frizzled blonde turned her head to him.

"Jake," she rasped, "you didn't do it, did you?"

Jacob's eyes parted all the more to envelope the whole image of his sister. This girl hardly got this deep- always tending to avoid a serious topic if she could. His sister laughed through everything, and yet she'd not cracked a joke or swatted at him the whole ride to school.

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?" he tried to jest.

"Mom and dad always told us to stick together no matter what. Protect each other. I'd lie to the entire world for you, Jake. If you were a serial killer, bomber,... rapist... I'd lie to every goddamn face 'cause I know you ain't a bad guy. And I could never look at mom or dad's face again if they knew you were barred real long for some hardcore shit. You'd do just the same for me. And if not, I'd chainsaw ya' throat, motherfucker. But I just... I have to know, Jake."

Jacob clicked his tongue, throwing himself back into the leather seat with all his contempt. "No one has time for this, Lola. You already late, and I'm-"

"As your sister, I need to know, Jake! I'm _not_ playing around so tell me the fucking truth!"

Their looks shoved and pushed at the other's. At any moment the car could've shred like paper from their conflicting forces. It's like their hands were tingling above the gun in their holsters, or the button to the nuclear weapon launch was blinking red with readiness. Either way, this could end the war, or start another.

At last Jake looked away. He reached down into his pocket for a cigarette and lighter, hiding no evidence that he was entirely pissed off. When his stick was lit and his exhale was clouding the car, he eased back again, unready to look upon the face that so resembled their father's.

"You know what happened. You were there."

"You and Minnie left the party, and there was a good twenty-five minutes between then and when I found you shirtless over that whore. Don't you dare tell me that's all you've got for an answer."

He smirked. "Don't worry, Lola. I didn't lie about it then, and I ain't now. That girl has some screws loose. She used me, tossed me away. You know... I never understood it. I mean, yeah, I'm not gonna lie. I liked her. A lot. She was mad cute, and damn she was always flirting... but I swear to you, I didn't rape her. The daughter of Seto Kaiba? Our dad's rival? C'mon, I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I knew she was too hot to touch."

A small laugh rose in his words then, "I kind of feel bad the girl. I mean, I had a lot of time to think about it in prison, but it don't matter how old she is, or who she's with. That girl will always be jailbait. Always."

"You promise you didn't touch her?" Lola's eyes melted at his words.

"I promise."

Lola didn't know if she was smiling or not, but there must have been an angel choir pelting a prayer inside somewhere. She knew it. She always did. How could she have ever doubted her brother? How?

"Now get your ass to class. Damn, you're so stupid." he pushed her.

"Shut up. You don't know my life."

"I don't want to. Get out of my car and educate yourself. This is not how I wanted to start my morning."

"Alright, alright." she hauled herself onto the sidewalk. "Thanks for the ride, Jake."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." was all he said before pulling away, that arrogant, foolish grin still somehow imprinted on his face. Lola waved, bouncing up and down so he'd notice- not that he'd care of course. The best reaction she could hope for would be his flipping her off as he turned the corner. But instead she got the cacophony of books, makeup, and a velvet box falling to the pathway.

Minako looked on with horror. The blue skies in her eyes had grown dark, and there was no sun, no light to be found. Her bag regurgitated all its treasures, and she did nothing to stop it. She did not try to catch them, she did not go to pick them up. There was no blushing, no gasping, no insult readied in the launch bay. There was just a pallid face with blatant eyes, and a Rolls Royce pulling away after Jacob's car. She'd seen him. Jacob. It was him, no doubt.

Two rivals late to school on the very same, cloudy day, and face to face with a past that noosed them tight together. It was a fate too cruel for either to comprehend. And so they stood. Just stood.

* * *

**"Well, what did she say?"** the twins leaned in closer over the desks they'd all pushed together.

"Nothing." shrugged Lola.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"My, that is very strange indeed." a gentler voice rose sympathetically. Faith Bakura whisked away a stray white hair from her face, her eyes trained finely on the story of her friend in need. She placed one leg over the other- a perfect composition of a lady. Of all the boisterous students barking in their lunch period, Faith bore the air and grace of a spring forest faerie in comparison.

"Lola," she piped again, "do you think she's frightened by this?"

"Minnie? You would've thought. See, I thought she was scared for a moment, but then her face morphed. Like, it looked like something out a horror movie or something. 'Cause one moment she looks like she about to pee herself, and the next was like 'I'm gonna spit fire into your mother's eyeballs'!"

"Oh, my!" gasped Faith.

"Like, deadass, though. She was ready to wring my neck right fucking there. And if weren't for Mr. Schwarzwald patrolling the courtyards again, we would've been scrapping."

"Do you think you should be doing that?" Howard tried for a laugh, if only to lighten the mood.

"What you trying to say?" she stood.

"Well, I mean, well... what if you get suspended again? What about your grades? What about-"

"If she swings at me, I'm _gonna_ swing back! I wrecked that hoe before, I'm not afraid to do it again. My brother _never_ touched her! She's a lying ass, home wrecking, spoiled-"

"Shut up!" spat Carter. "You don't know anything about Minnie. Not one single thing."

A hush snaked through the room. Eyes scurried the scene as if shots had just been fired. A girl with pink hair sparkled at the start of drama and snuck out her cell phone, striking up the camera. Minnie would _have_ to see this.

Lola choked on an incredulous laugh. "Excuse me? I've had to deal with this bitch since I was little. I know her. Trust me. What I don't understand is why you're defending her. I thought you were on my side."

"I'm not on anyone's side! Why do you have to make it about sides? Lola, don't you get it? It's over and done with. You have your brother back, and Minnie is obviously afraid to try something now! So just leave it alone and don't call her those names!"

"This is not over with. I live with this everyday, Carter! You don't live in my house, you don't see my parent's faces at the end of the day when they get another court date in the mail, or when they got a phone call from prison. You don't know what the hell it's like to lose someone so close to you like I did! And I will call her whatever I want! She ruined my life!"

"Please, friends, calm down. We shouldn't fight." Faith whimpered.

Carter made no attempts to acknowledge the fragile girl's words.

"Ruined your life? Seriously? At least you have a loving family to go home to! You know what Minnie has? A giant mansion full of loneliness! Just servants who have to paid to be around her!"

"Good, 'cause I feel like I should be paid to be around that attitude too! No wonder she ain't have no real friends. She's mean and rotten and doesn't give a damn about anyone else but herself! Miss high and mighty, strolling up with her rare cards and million dollar purses like she thinks she's cute or something. Fuck her!"

"Dudes, chill. C'mon now." Howard tried along with Faith.

"Y-Yes. Can we talk about something else?" Faith pursued. "Carter, I wanted to ask you about Pharah. When will she be coming to school? I-"

"I'm tired of you bashing on Minnie, Lola! You know what? You're not even that different from her! You're both stubborn, you like drama, and you can't let things go!"

"Why are you defending her? You have a crush on her or something? 'Cause I'm gonna let you know right now,;she don't like you. She abandoned your ass in third-fucking-grade. I stuck by you because we're friends! That's why I'm nothing like her! What the hell is the matter with you?"

Faith stood between them then. "Carter, what about Pharah? When's she coming to school? I would really love to meet her."

"Lola, I'm not going to do this with you. Especially not in school. Just stop bashing on her, more importantly since she's not here to defend herself. You're just being a bully. Just like her."

Lola can not stand to watch him turn his back to her. She can not let him leave this classroom, leave her fuming, as if nothing happened. Carter had always been so calm and collected, so... so smooth it was infuriating.

"Carter, I thought we were friends!" she wailed.

"We are, Lola. But just because people are your friends doesn't mean they're always right. Wouldn't it be better if a friend told you something was wrong other than having an enemy do that? Doesn't that better us as people to see another perspective? Just look around, Lola. You'll find Minnie isn't the enemy. And neither am I. I'm not going to let you walk over me, my morals, or Minnie like that any more."

He turned his attention to Faith calmly and gently. A noble glow coveted his frame as he nodded, "Don't worry, Faith. You'll meet Pharah soon. I just hope she doesn't have to deal with any of this nonsense."

And he was gone.

END CHAPTER

THANK YOU FOR READING

* * *

**Announcements:**

**WOW! 51 messages and I've been gone- what?- one or two weeks? Haha, thanks everyone. I promise I will get to all your messages soon.**

**As requested; music playlists for Minnie, Pharah, and Lola are up on my channel. (Sorry, but I didn't feel like doing them for all the characters). A lot of thought went into them, so, tell me what you think! Ahron Rhine on Youtube, or search for "Pharah's Musik".**

**THANK YOU SO MUCH LYDIA FOR DRAWING MINNIE, PHARAH, LOLA, &THE TWINS! You know who you are, and thank you so, so, so, SO much. The picture was so beautiful and I cried a little seeing it!**

**As for why I've not updated anything in so long,**

**warmer weather is approaching. The reason I haven't been onis because so many people have been travelling for spring break, and now it's vacation season. AKA more work for me I will more than likely be working more hours than usual- especially since flight hours are crucial if I'm ever to move up. And, thus, I will not able to update and/or reply as often as I would like. I will try my best, but until further notice, expect fewer and slower updates. My greatest apologies, friends.**


	12. Looking In, Wanting Out

"Minnie!" the assistant rattled against the door. She tapped and tapped again, then gave the knob a shake. Still nothing. Not a sound, not a word. Her blonde hair was falling from its twists and ties, having again exhausted herself trying to usher the heiress to all her appointments. The worst part about working for the Kaiba family was that they all were so unbearably stubborn, and somehow she was simply to know whatever it was they wanted without them having to explain. Clearly having failed at that, Minako's flimsy assistant could not summon a mere clue as to why the teen would lock herself in her dressing room.

This time she clubbed the door with her ruby high heels.

"Miss Kaiba, open this door! This is no time to be stalking Cortencia von Schroeder on Instagram again! You're on in five minutes!"

But Minnie's phone was nowhere near her. Last she cared, she dropped it over by the door. Or maybe the table of refreshments. She didn't quite remember. Her hair fortressed her face from the world, falling hopelessly over her lowly shoulders. Her Christian Louboutin _Asteroid_ heels were somewhere bestrewn across the room; she could've sworn one hit the lampshade on the vanity. Even her purse laid lifeless and empty over the floor, like a gutted murder victim whose viscera had spilled in lipsticks, parfums, and countless hairclips.

"Miss Kaiba!" the assistant squealed again. Minnie winced at every discordant noise she made; every time she kicked the door, every time she whined her name, every time she warned of what her father would do if he found out about her rebellious behavior. She curled more closely into herself, taking her legs into her chest as if it were the closest feeling to a hug she'd ever had.

"Minnie, do I have to get security down here? You have to be on stage in five minutes for that interview, you understand? Five minutes! Minnie, answer me!"

She held her head, waiting- convulsing- for the tears to come. Not another talk show. Not another flamboyant TV host. No more questions about her plans to duel Zeyad, no more cards, no more autographs, pictures, people to shout her name. When she would look up from her tiny world upon the floor, there stood the table arranged with gifts from the audience she was soon to greet. Roses from the boys who stuck every poster of her on their walls, baked goods from those oh-so-adoring girls who wanted to be just like her, custom made plushes and keychains to look just like her. And all of them scribbled and etched with those lies, lies, lies: "Minako, I'm your biggest fan," "Dear Minnie, someday I want to grow up and be a great duelist like you," "Minako Kaiba, you're so beautiful, you should marry me," "Minako, my whole family looks up to you. We love you."

Still she heaved. Still she pulled her muscles in tight to push out a wail, a cry, a sudden spout of tears. There had to have been one in her. After everything that day had bestowed upon her, after all the arguing and yelling. There had to have been something to move a tear to her aching blue eyes! Alas, nothing could dampen her eyes. Nothing would pass through her mouth but hot, yearning air. She was left struggling to cry. Oh, how she wanted to. But everything was all dried up. She was left with helpless waves of breath, each one begging for a salty tear, and the feeling of her core being buried deep, deep inside.

Feet rumbled against the floor just outside her dressing room. It was a big enough crowd to prop her head up out of her lap and watch the door as if a killer were on the other side. They were going to try and break in- or worse, break her out.

"What's the matter? Is Miss Kaiba alright?"

"I don't know." Stumbled the assistant. "She won't answer me. Please, I hope we're not a bother to you. Minnie's probably just, um, dealing with some drama. You know how teenagers are and all."

"Of course, ma'am." a man's heavy voice then pointed to Minnie. "Minako Kaiba? Is everything alright? We need you on stage, ma'am, are you ok?"

Then he tried jiggling the knob.

"Damn it. I'll get the keys." She heard his voice groan from the hallway.

"No." Minnie gasped. In that moment, realizing she could be pried from her cage and made to dance for the circus, she made a dash for her purse. Makeup and trinkets soared across the room in her hunt to find her cellphone. Not there. Not on the vanity. She took a heavy breath of worry and reality, and jolted as soon as she remembered that she'd dropped her phone near the wardrobe. Quickly, and almost instinctually, she began tapping digits into the device.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up…" she ordered the dial tone.

* * *

**Tea simply couldn't resist **taking the Egyptian girl into her arms. She kicked the oven closed and with her mits still warm from the pan, she snuck Pharah into her grasp and let a girly bit of glee blow through all three colors of her hair.

"Practically a Christmas feast and all under twenty minutes! New record! Oh, I've always wanted an assistant."

"And you said you wouldn't smother the girl," Yugi offered a chuckle from the dining room.

"Oh, I know, I know. I'm just so _excited_ to have someone who actually helps around the house!" shrieked Tea. Pharah welcomed the emotion around her, the smiles that praised her work and presence. The splendorous scents of a family cooked meal swarmed the house like wild fire. Surely one whiff could end a war, one taste could unite nations. This was something her sons never cared to be a part of. As talented as each was- Howard in his music, Carter in his sports- neither one sought much entertainment in cooking or shopping. Alas, Pharah was interested in nearly everything. Show her a spork and she'd marvel at the genius of its invention. And whether this were a flaw or a mere quirk, it was such a wonder to hear a young girl's laughter in the house.

She gingerly released the girl when, right one time, the doorbell rang aloud.

"May I answer it, Mrs. Muto?" Pharah leapt.

"Of course." She snorted. "And how many times do I have to tell you? There's no need for such formalities around us. We're family. You can call me Aunt Tea."

"Yes, Aunt Tea. Forgive me." She bowed her head before requiting the anxious guests.

Husband and wife shared another glance when the last of Pharah's bobbing ponytail exited the room. Yugi knew exactly what was on his wife's mind, and had no intentions on being her enemy for the night.

"Don't start that again." He said.

"Start what?" she placed her hands solidly on her hips. Target locked on.

"You know what."

At first he thought that was it. Perhaps Tea had banished her need to argue over what happens under her roof. But then she sat near his side, a hand winding alarmingly around his arm like a snake strangling prey. She would not be denied in any way to speak her mind.

"I'm just saying, is all. Do you really think she's ready for school? For the world?"

"Tea,"

"I don't think she's ever seen so many people in one place before. I don't even think she's seen that many people _period_. And just think of all the bullies. I mean, she's a cute young girl, naïve, can easily be taken advantage of,"

"Tea,-"

"She'll have to use computers, and read books about things she's never once seen or heard of, or even imagine. The girl just managed to put on an outfit by herself yesterday without my help! What if she falls behind in her classes? What if she gets made fun of? What if the Tawfiqs come back for her and she's taken away while she's walking home? What'll we do? What if- what if they take her from us forever?"

"_Tea_!" he snapped, but never so angrily as to injure his most beloved wife.

"Yes?"

He took her hands in his. "She'll be fine. She has Howard, and Carter, and Lola to look after her. I'm sure she'll make good friends. Besides, I think you underestimate her. She's a quick learner. You acted just the same way when Howard and Carter headed off for their first day of school. Remember?"

"How could I not? I was crying like a baby. Oh, how Joey laughed at me. I was so ready to- to…ugh."

The married two shared another look. This time, it carried more love and memories than anything else. It was in knowing that everything would be alright. After all, they knew they'd all stick together no matter what.

"They grow up so fast." She said.

Yugi smirked lovingly, rubbing his wife's hand and pulling her in for a kiss.

"Well, well. What have we here?" a snicker lingered within a Brooklyn accent.

"Joey!" the Mutos rejoiced. Neither one could shrink the grin twinkling from cheek to cheek. Tea was the first to grab him, nabbing him straight into her arms and never letting go. Yugi took his friend's embrace as well where there was room for him.

"I allowed the Wheeler family in, Mrs. Muto- I mean, Aunt Tea. I hope this is ok."

"It's alright, Pharah. They are good friends, and you can trust them."

"Trust the Wheelers. Lola is a Wheeler! Yes, ma'am." She nodded.

"Aye, kid. What's up?" Joey reached a hand down to the Egyptian. When Pharah searched the ceiling for an answer, a noticeable giggle waited in Mai's throat. Tea shot a most fearsome look her way.

"Uh, the ceiling, sir. Don't you see it?"

Joey cocked an eyebrow. "What I mean is; how's it going?"

"How is what going? The ceiling? I do not think it goes anywhere."

"N-Nevermind." He rubbed his head when Tea looked his way. "So, I heard you're starting school tomorrow. You excited, or what?"

"Or what 'what'?"

There was rarely a time when Joey consciously decided to close his mouth, and this was, to his dismay, one of those moments. Instead, he patted the girl on her shoulder, smiled a goofy smile, and wished her the very best if luck.

"Um, Pharah dear, could you go see what the twins are doing?" Tea, with her most practiced smile, gave Pharah a little shove into the living room.

"Yes, ma'am."

There may have been new faces, new places, new sights and sounds, but Pharah knew just what being kicked of the dining room meant. The grown-ups were about to have a talk, and she wasn't to hear a peep. Om and Baba did just the same. Sometimes Zeyad, Abdullah, and Faisal were allowed to listen in since they were practically adults anyways. She would get so jealous of them since she had to resort to listening through the walls- not that it had been any good. Pharah paused a moment before entering the living room now that Om had crept again into her thoughts.

_Poor, poor Om_, she thought. Pharah remembered all the times she'd helped Om prepare dinner, whether it was plucking feathers from the pheasants or stirring a hot pot of curry. Food was their secret language. Meal time always meant there'd be a moment when Om did not have to put on a stern face for Baba. The old woman could laugh without question and extol without Baba's discern. Even when she would mix up her spices, or keep the lamb cooking too long, Om would smile just as wide as Aunt Tea, and sometimes embrace her too. Who did Om have now after she'd selfishly run away? Who would help stir the pot? Who would wash the dishes, or set the table? She thought of her adoptive mother alone in the kitchen, stirring a sauce with no tangy aroma to welcome her children in, rolling semolina with no sugar to sweeten a basbousa- their favorite snack.

Poor, poor Om.

In the living room, Lola had already set up camp. She reclined deep into the sofa, thumb torturing the channel button on the remote, and her feet propped up on the coffee table as if she owned the place. Lola was a normal person her age, used to this normal world. Surely, Pharah assumed, if anyone would know what to do, it would be Lola. After all, from what she understood, friends always had each other's backs. She patted herself off, half expecting a dust cloud of flower and sugar to explode around her, and placed her kindest smile over her lips.

"A good afternoon, Lola Wheeler." She took the seat beside her.

"Yup. Good fucking afternoon indeed." Though her tone begged to differ.

"Lola, Aunt Tea said I could trust you because you are a Wheeler."

"Uh-huh, go on."

"Well, with that noted, I'd like to ask you a question."

Lola took her eyes away from the TV. Years of absorbing teen movies and reality shows had prepared her for a moment like this. Two girls, one of whom sought the advice of another, usually involved some type of drama. But just what kind of mess could a girl like Pharah get into? Surely this would be more interesting than channel surfing.

"Alright then. Shoot." She stated attentively. When Pharah's eyes coiled with confusion, Lola clicked her tongue with irritancy. This girl had a lot of catching up to do- like a couple thousand years' worth. "Gosh. I mean you can ask your question."

"Yes, well, um… my Om may be ill with sorrow. I fear that running away has left her-"

"Wait, wait. Hold up. What the hell is an 'om'?"

"Oh, my apologies. It is 'mother' in your tongue."

"Right. Ok, continue."

"Om is all alone now. We lived in a tiny place with no one else around. Except the birds, of course. Om always liked the birds." –she gulped when Lola's eyes began to roll- "Well, I miss her very much. But I do not want to insinuate that I dislike Aunt Tea and Uncle Yugi's hospitality. They are very kind to me. Everyone is. And yet they say Om meant to hurt me, Lola. That is what they said. I heard them. Om- and Baba too- the Mutos tell me they locked me away like a prisoner so that I could not have friends like you. But how could that be when they too were nothing but kind to me. So, my question is, if you were in such a position, would you go back to Om and Baba?"

"Uh, well…" Lola scratched her head for an answer. She pursed her lips and pondered some more, and then finally returned to Pharah with a leap in her voice.

"They're like your ma and your pops, right? So of course I would! I mean, not right away, of course, especially since you're a runaway. Look, you're talking to the best damn runaway there is. I've done it loads of times. What you gotta do is this; wait a while, lay low. Let their worry sink in a bit until it turns into sorrow and then eventually guilt. Boom. Got 'em! So, that ways, when you finally _do_ go home, they'll be all like: 'Oh, I love you. I missed you. I'll never make you clean your room again'. Or you know what I mean. You can't get in trouble that way because now they feel like punishing you was why you ran away in the first place. You feel me?"

"I-"

"Not literally. That's creepy. Don't really feel me up or nothing."

She laughed. "Oh. I understand, Lola. I just… I don't want them to hurt at all. Guilt is quite painful. I feel it almost every day since running out of that door."

"Aw, forget about it. What happened, happened. The ship has already sailed, amiga. You just gotta enjoy the cruise for now. Think of it as a part of growing up. Everybody gets a little rebellious from time to time. You be iight. I promise."

Pharah nodded at the confidence in her friend's words. "Yes. Thank you, Lola. You are a very good friend."

"What can I say? That's how I roll."

Maybe this was the "bonding" thing Tea was always talking about. She'd chewed Pharah's ears off every night about how important building friendships were. None of it could be possible without bonding- conversing with a potential buddy. And since Pharah was soon to attend school, she was in dire need of these "buddies" Tea spoke so urgently of. Pharah considered this moment a success. Lola and she had crossed the conversation barrier, so this had deemed them friends? At this point, Pharah contemplated asking Lola for fashion tips, maybe to join in the polishing of nails or partake in the chatter of boys. But she'd never get the chance now. The thunder against the door was too much a startle for both ladies.

"Jake's here! Oh shit! Battle stations, Pharah! Move, move!" Lola squealed, rushing to the door. "You're late, asshole!"

"Let me in, shitface. I had work! Who you think you are?"

"Shut your ass up. Pharah, help me hold this door closed." She cackled.

"Of course, Lola!" Pharah came rushing to her friend's aid. She'd use all her might to defend the Muto's house from intruders. The two girls pressed all their weight against the front entrance door, blockading Jacob outside. Yet he was prepared for this. A year in prison grew his arms into rolling hills, stacked his abdominals like boxes, and cut his legs into skin-covered cement. With one ram, his shoulder broke through the girls' blockade and sent them careening into the coat closet.

Lola burst into loud howls of laughter.

"Lock me out again. Lock-me-out-again, Lola. Watch what happens." Jacob threatened.

"Yo, you get _so _tight over nothing. Like damn. That's what you get for showing up late."

Jacob mumbled a few curses, giving his sister a shove. He was here to see old friends, eat good food, and catch up. That's all. At home, messing around with Lola was one thing. But in public, it was messing with her drama that got him behind bars in the first place.

"So, where's Howard and Carter? I ain't seen them fuckers in mad long."

A wee, quivering groan was his only requite. A whimper, more exactly. And Lola would rather die than make such a pathetic noise as that. Jacob turned worriedly to the tri-colored hair, dark skin, and bold violet eyes that opened wonderingly from the coat closet. A blush stampeded to his face faster than he could realize how inert he stood before this mighty, childish gaze. Perhaps a myriad of could-haves, should-haves, and what-ifs passed through his mind when at last their eyes touched.

Lola had mentioned this girl before; how strange and benign she'd been. But now he knew for sure. This was the Pharaoh's daughter. Suddenly his father's memoirs didn't seem so drunkenly spoken. There truly was a pharaoh's spirit locked inside a golden puzzle; moreover, one whom his father had befriended.

He shook his head. This was a Pharaoh's daughter, and he was simply going to stare at her after knocking her down and using such language in her presence?

He reached a thick hand out to her, nearly jabbing her face in its speed. She jumped within herself at this strange, strange motion. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Heh. See, I- I thought it was just Lola behind the door. I didn't mean to- if I had known- I" he felt her hand in his, lifting her and watching her as she stood.

"Whoah." He breathed.

His eyes scratched like the burlap dresses Om used to make her. All she wanted to do was itch and itch, take the redness away from her cheeks, hide her body from his sight.

"Sorry. Again. I don't mean to stare, it's just… you look so much like him."

"Huh?" she wrapped her arms around herself.

"The Pharaoh. I mean, I- uh- never saw him personally, but the hieroglyphics and the stone with the Egyptian god cards and, um… let me just shut up. I must sound completely insane. You'd have to be, like, thousands of years old. Not that you look a thousand years old, but- Sorry. Uh, I'm Jacob. Jacob Wheeler. Lola's older brother."

"Jacob…Wheeler." She spoke softly. "I can trust you. You're a Wheeler."

Jacob laughed again, trying to contain the beastly noise. "Yeah, sure. Whatever floats your boat."

This time she smiled enough for her cheeks to round like she'd eaten sweet, sweet candies. Luckily for Jake, however, the twins coming down stairs gave him an excuse to move his attention elsewhere. First Howard, then Carter- who Lola made sure saw the flame-throwing scowl still heated from their bout at school. He had better make sure they weren't seated together at dinner, or it may be the last meal he ever did eat. Pharah could only watch then as all the friends exchanged their welcomes. She was a stranger to their world. They'd all grown up together, known all their secrets and seen each other at their worst. Pharah knew none of it. And so, took a seat on the outside looking in.

* * *

"**Oh my gosh, Tea." **Mai scooped the last of her meal into her mouth. "This food is amazing. You really out-did yourself this time."

"Actually, I'm afraid I'm not the mastermind behind it all."

"Hm? Don't tell me you were able to kitchen-train Yugi. I've been dying to learn how to get Joey to do that."

"What?" exclaimed a full-mouthed Joey. "I am kitchen-trained. I go in, I eat, I call it a day."

Tea laughed; "Nope, this time we have Pharah to thank for the meal. She's my new little chef."

"Well, well, well, Pharah. Well done. Wherever did you learn such a talent?"

Yugi's heart skipped a beat. He looked upon his wife, then his sons. Their wide-eyes were all the same. But it was too late. Mai had already asked the question.

"Om taught me! We used to cook together all the time."

"O-Om?" she tried to form the word.

"It means 'mother' in Arabic." Lola pointed her fork. "Yup. Just learned that today."

"Oh. _Oh_. Your… 'mother'."

Finally it clicked. No one chewed, no one breathed. Mai's stomach plummeted after the silence her question imbued. Pharah was the only one oblivious to the tension keeping everyone still in their seats.

"Mhm. Om is a very wise woman. She taught me how to make perfect maakouda, and kab-el-ghazal. We had to slaughter our own chickens too, but she always knew the right way so that they didn't suffer. Om-"

"Pharah, please. Not at the table." Tea snipped away with her words.

Her glow dimmed and dimmed. Her shoulders dipped to the level of the table. Now that she could speak again, it seemed no one wanted to hear her. No one cared to know of how dear Om was to her, or all the times her brothers and sisters would spend the holidays in their little shack in the desert.

Pharah looked once to Lola on her left, and then to Carter on her right. No one so much as gave her a look as the sound of silverware picked up again. For a brief moment- just the slightest sliver of time- she found Jacob's eyes. He sat just across from her, minding his distance. With his body at least. There was a quick condoling grin, and then it turned down to his food as if he weren't sure he should have been looking at all at a princess in any way.

Few words were spoken after that. Everyone had everything to say, but nothingness pursued. The only disturbance then, whilst the plates were nearly all cleaned, was Carter's phone vibrating through his denim jeans.

"Minnie?" he whispered through a gasp.

But Lola's ears were trained to pick up the slightest mention of that devil. It was a sense only those scathed by the utmost loathing could attain. Jacob always attributed it to paranoia, or a girl's basic need to be involved, but Lola thought it a scar in her eardrum.

Her fork and knife clashed against the plate. She swerved past Pharah, sending her death glares down Carter's way, and chanted cruelly to pick up the phone.

"Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up." She whispered sharply. "I dare you. Pick that shit up. Put it on speaker too. Lemme hear what the bitch has to say."

"Uh, mom? Dad?" Carter ignored Lola's demonic incantation. "May I be excused? This is kind of an emergency."

"Of course, son." Said Yugi before his wife could protest.

This churned the lava splashing through Lola's veins. That goody-two-shoes-Carter. He was a traitor. He was with Minnie. Joey could spy his daughter getting ready to leave the table as well, hungering for a fight. He aimed his look her way, and sat austere in every position.

Carter only clicked the call open when his door was locked shut behind him. Hopefully he hadn't kept the heiress waiting for too long. Maybe there was a cool way to say hello, or maybe he should wait for her to do it first. No, would that be rude? What would Minako consider rude? Everything, right?

He lifted the phone to his hear, about to say something cool- maybe even _really_ cool/

"Carter." Minnie pants, "Carter, I can't do this. I can't do this anymore."


	13. Poisons

**Carter was not trained for combat**. He'd never thought he'd see the front lines, or watch a comrade fall before his very eyes. But when Minako's words starting spewing like a frightened machine gun, he took every hit. Breaths came crashing down, unable to level out. Thuds pounded the background, shelling the trenches without any sign of stopping. Carter had to fight. He had to. He was pulled in now- and simply the fact that Minako had remembered his number after all these years was enough of a spark to his soldier spirit to fill the magazine.

"Minnie, Minnie. It's ok, Minnie. Just slow down. I can't make out a word you're saying. Just take a deep breath, ok? Then tell me what's going on."

"You're right, you're right, you're right." She sighed. "Ok."

He listened to her breathe. The sound careened through the receiving end where the fear it was fueled with exploded into melancholy. He could tell that whatever noises were going on the background were holding her captive, and yet against his curiosity, he waited for her to speak when she was ready.

"I'm so sorry…" her words breathed like satin. His voice must have caught in his throat, because all Carter could do at such a sorrowful sound was lift an eyebrow and try to remember how to make his heart beat.

Minnie sniffled. "I mean, it's been so long… and the only time I call you is when I don't know what else to do. Just how much a bitch am I? Carter, I… I don't want to do this anymore. I hate interviews. I hate talk shows. I hate that I don't even know if I should say '_I_' or '_me_' anymore as if I'm insinuating I'm a person or something. How fucking pathetic is that? Truth is… I don't even know why I called you, Carter. I just… I just don't know anymore. I thought I did, but…"

"Minnie, what's going on? What happened?"

A silence roamed the No-Man's land between words. He listened to the noises again, the shouts of a battle some ways off. Maybe a siege from the sound of it.

"Minnie?"

"My father… he sent me a present today. Some new cards. There was a box and I didn't want to open it. I didn't want to believe that if my father ever asked for my forgiveness that I'd just reach across canyons to hand it to him. The worst part is that I'd probably fall off the edge trying to reach him, and he wouldn't even flinch. He wouldn't even reach down to grab me. If vultures didn't get me, he'd bury me himself- me and all my scattered pieces- right where I fell. He'd bury me under these cards. Oh, Carter, I tried to stay away from it. From that little black box he sent the cards in. I tried leaving it in the limo, then stuffing it into my locker, even tossing it into the lake. But I… I had to open it. I had to know there was something inside."

Carter's face crinkled with dismay. He knew things were bad with Minnie- all he ever remembered of Seto was stone. Stone glares, stone expression, stone mindset. He gripped the phone tighter. Something tingled beneath the surface if his skin. This something began simmer and slither. Whole fleets of slurs and insults were ready for launch, ready to slip off the runway of his tongue. And yet, to Minako's credit, he said nothing about her father. Only listened more.

"He gave me _La Jinn, The Mystical Genie of the Lamp_. You know that card? He use to use it a lot."

"Yeah. That's very nice of him." Was all he could think to say between gritted teeth.

"I know… he said the cards were perfect. Just what I need."

"For what?"

"Did you know I was in school today?" her voice changed as soon as he'd asked the question.

"N-No, Minnie. Tell me about the cards. What are they perfect for?"

"They're always perfect. My dad used to use them. Someday he'll let me use Blue Eyes. I know it."

Carter tried again- there had to have been something about the cards. A message. A pattern. Just like his father always taught him to look for.

"No. Minnie, what other cards did he give you?"

"I don't think you noticed I was in school because I hid in the bathroom most of the day; putting makeup on, scrubbing it off, putting it on again. I never felt so ugly. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw last year's spring break. I saw Lola walking in on me and her brother. I saw the cops again, watched them beat him to the ground. I saw my uncle, my dear Uncle Mokuba, and the truth pouring out of his eyes when he came to the beach that night. He knows. He's always known what happened. Yes, Carter, I saw Jacob today. He must have been dropping Lola off at school because he _was_ there. At school. And I saw him! I saw my deep, dark secret laughing in the car and then just drive off as if it hadn't scarred!"

"But…" she breaks off, "I _did_ see the video."

"Hm? What video?"

"You didn't know? The girl with the pinkish hair in your economics class. Julie? She's- was- one of my friends. She took a video on her cell phone of, well, you defending me against Lola."

"What?" his chest came to life again. Minnie had seen him argue with Lola over her? This was either really good, maybe even boyfriend status good, or really bad. His face flooded with quick, tingling heat.

"Yes. My friends came over to my house after school. We did some talking, mostly about my Sweet Sixteen, and they asked if I was going to invite you and your brother. I… I didn't think you'd ever want to talk to me again until Julie showed me what happened. I guess that's why I called."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that was the reason. I wanted to… say thank you. For everything."

The voices in the background grew louder. Her name was called over and over and over.

"Minnie, what's-"

"I'm afraid I have to go now. Sorry for dumping all this on you; once I started, I just couldn't stop."

"Minnie, please just tell me you're ok."

"Yeah," she sniffled softer this time, "I'm fine. I don't even know what came over me. Heh, sorry about this, Carter. I didn't mean to bother you. Well, I've got an interview now. Wish me luck."

"Wait, no, Minnie-" but it was too late. The phone fell silent once more, right in the soldier's hand. Carter was never trained in combat. He'd never thought he'd see the front lines, or watch a comrade fall before his very eyes. But when Minako had hung up the phone, he knew she'd hopped over the trench, and he would have to follow.

"Good luck." He said.

* * *

**Husniyah Tawfiq could not be still **no matter how loud her husband commanded her to be. Every inch of her shook. Every thought turned to Pharah- the drugs, the fluid, the golden eye! Every heartbeat was a scream she could not set free.

She paced around her husband's study in their Alexandrian estate. The edifice was of supreme luxury. A complete parallel to the shack she'd inhabited with Pharah. Here, the ceilings boasted of Arabic chandeliers and Grecian pillars. The walls held sported elephant heads and antlers from all over the wild kingdoms. Portraits of the family haunted the hallways, from the ancients to Husniyah's eldest son, the undefeated duelist Zeyad. The office rose high with books and artifacts. And everything sat effortlessly over the polished marble.

However, nothing would ease Husniyah's nerves until Pharah was back in her arms. And even tso, she'd no way to know if her husband would even allow that. Looking around, there wasn't a single photograph of her. What if Naguib finally got her back and there wasn't anything to remember her by? What was Husniyah to do? Not even one of her childhood drawings, or handmade necklaces, would hang on the fridge or sit on her vanity as a reminder of the child she had raised.

At last Naguib opened the doors to the study. Already there was stress carving into his brow and a sadistic twitch to his lips. His presence alone told Husniyah to be silent, to hold herself away unless he should reach for her.

"This is a disaster!" he snapped incredulously. "Those peasant Ishtars! Who do they think they are?"

"What happened now, my love?" she went to him obediently.

"Those Ishtars. They make my blood boil. They came to office today." Grumbled Naguib.

"Oh, my. Whatever for?"

"Tchk! To make a mockery of me, that's why! You remember how sporadically Yugi Muto had returned to El-Minya?"- he watched for Husniyah's head nod- "Well, I did my very best to limit his supplies and his access to land again. I would have succeeded too, of course, if not for those malicious Ishtars! Today, the feeble woman and her effeminate brother spilled into my office with court orders and accusations of unfair treatment. They must be on Professor Muto's side- oh, how they defended his case with all their might. They must be using his position as an archeologist to access our lands they think will lead them to Pharah. Or worse. They know we stole her. They must know by now. Why else would they bother with us? I swear, were it not for our connections to the government, there'd have been quite an extensive investigation. And at such a time as this, that is very last thing we need."

He sighed, reclining back into his master chair. "At any rate, has there been any news on that pesky child's whereabouts?"

"Hm? Oh, no. I'm afraid not. No one has so much as heard a rumor." She looked down dreadfully. Every time she was forced to think of Pharah's absence, of what could have happened to her, her stomach churned over and over.

"Well, she _has_ to be somewhere. Those fools. She couldn't have vanished into thin air. They must not be looking hard enough."

Husniyah made her ghostly way to the windows. The sunset breaking in revealed her slow decay. Her hair was grimly pinned up as if to try and hide her graying strands. Her wrinkles were no longer sweet and delicately aged, but instead plowed through as irrigation tunnels for her lonesome tears. A sigh did her breath no justice, for it still wiggled and waved like there'd been no more breath to breathe. Naguib registered this haggard, wasteful noise, and turned to the silhouette of his wife. He watched her shadow struggle to collect itself in the violent sunset pouring in on them.

"Husniyah?" he woke from his rage, stepping slowly to meet his life partner. After placing a hand on her shoulder, he could feel how low and pained they were. He could feel his wife's brokenness chipping away beneath his fingertips. "Oh, come now, love. Y-You don't actually miss the girl, do you? Tell me you do not consider her a comparison to your _own _children."

Tears slipped from her eyes. Some of the heavier than others. How could her husband knife her like that? How could he pull her down for having a heart?

"Oh, Husniyah. I knew I never should have let you keep her. Never! This is exactly why we should have just gotten rid of her when we took her from the Ishtars. You care for this girl as your own? Husniyah, I warned you from the beginning never to get attached!"

"I know. I am so sorry, my love. I am weak in your eyes, I know."

"Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you _let_ her go! You freed her!" his voice began to soar.

"No, Naguib! Never!"

"What did you tell her? _Hm_? I left you in charge of her because _you _wanted her. _You _raised her! What could you have messed up on to make her want to run away? What did you say? What did you do?"

"Nothing, my love! Pharah was always an obedient girl; did all her chores, anything I asked. She was far too timid to attempt anything on her own. She did not dare to even brush her hair or wipe her nose without asking permission. If she ever dreamt of leaving, she certainly made no mention of it. She used to cry whenever I left, and then again with joy when I returned. I- I did everything I could to terrify her with stories of what would happen if she ever left. Naguib, I told you. I only went down to the basement for a second. The next thing I knew, she was gone. I ran out far enough to where her footprints had vanished. That was when I called you, my love."

She quivered under his watch. Husniyah never meant to let her husband see how much he frightened her, but it could not be helped. Pharah's absence was a deep wound that kept her from standing on her own, from believing she could still manage. She looked away from Naguib. She did not know just how to place her words before him, for she loved him dear. But her fears grew with each and every day Pharah was not beside her.

"Dearest Naguib," she started softly and brokenly, "I'm afraid there is something else you must know."

His chin was sharp then when his eyebrows raised inquiringly. Husniyah almost pulled away, but managed to hold her ground.

"She's almost been gone a month. The drugs must be wearing off by now."

"What?" he nearly choked on the fear.

"Yes. Once per month, she was made to drink from a formaldehyde tincture. The embalming fluid is supposed to keep her form, while the other elixirs mimicked the heartbeat and created circulation. More importantly, they kept her mind away from the shadows. It dulls her senses to disable the dark abilities her father would have passed onto her. It used to be such a hassle to get her to drink it, but over the years her body realized it needed it. She's never gone more than a month without taking it! Withdrawal could be devastating. Naguib, I fear this may be our undoing."

Naguib stood over her. His eyes pushed down on top of her, almost nailing her into the floor. Husniyah looked everywhere but in his line of fire. Or, at least she tried until he shook her with all his might.

"You _had _to keep the girl, didn't you, Husniyah? You couldn't have just let me finish her off as an infant! We've many, many children, Husniyah! Why should one that was not even your own flesh and blood have made any difference? What is worse is that I listened to you. I believed you could manage it. You always promised that nothing like this would ever happen. You could handle it, right? Of course! That's why we're_ in_ this predicament, isn't it? Because _you _could obviously handle it!"

"Naguib,"

"Damn it all, Husniyah! This is your fault, and I will not fall down through hell's fires for your blatant mistakes!" he brought his hand to his wife. "Get out of my sight, woman! Leave this place, this country! And do not return until you have Pharah in your grasp! Do you understand me?"

"My love, please,"

"I tire of your speech." He took her by the collar of her dress. "Listen to me, and listen to me well. You seem to have quite a fondness for the girl, so who better to send for her than you? She'd obviously trust you. After all, you're her Om; her dear, doting mother who couldn't find it in her heart to dispose of the wretch. And you will not come home until she is found. This also means that other than Zeyad, Abdullah, and Faisal, you will not see another one of your children until you have fixed your mistakes. But, then again, why would that bother you, love? You chose Pharah over them in the first place! So, get out! Now!"

He tossed her from his sight. Naguib listened to her whimpering noises as she tried to stand once more. She did her very best to hold in the cries, to crawl out of his office- out of his home, and this country- before he could do anything else. There was no time to pack, no time to plan. She just has to get out. She just had to find Pharah if it was the last thing she ever did. And it certainly felt like it would be.

* * *

**"Oh, Pharah. You just look so cute!** Yugi, get the camera!" Tea ordered aggressively when Pharah came toddling down the stairs. Tea was particularly proud of the fact that her old Domino High uniform fit the body of a petite thing like Pharah. Howard and Carter had to wonder if this day were more important to Pharah or their mother's ego. They sat back and rolled their eyes between mouthfuls of cereal.

_Om would have never allowed this_, thought Pharah. The skirt at such minimal length, the breeze that drifted between her legs. How did girls go out in the world without worrying if their skirts rode up, or if they took too large a step that people could see the panties beneath? Then she remembered Mrs. Wheeler and her Aunt Tea's clothes. Maybe people in this world didn't worry about such things.

Yugi heeded his wife's every command that morning; who wouldn't when she was in such a mood? In many ways, Tea's bubbling excitement and domineering reminded him of their wedding. No one said no to Tea on her wedding day. Not even Seto Kaiba, who hadn't stayed long after the ceremony for some reason or another. Yugi yawned tediously, turning the camera on and marking upon his sons' equal expressions. None of them were going to question why women acted such a way. Instead, they'd allow Tea to embrace the fact that she was no longer the only female in the house.

"Ok, ok. Hold on, let me just fix her bow." She wiggled the blue, puffing ribbon over Pharah's chest. "This is your first day of school, Pharah, so everything has to be perfect."

"Yes, ma'am." She grinned. No one really knew how Pharah felt about any of it; Tea's constant fidgeting over her, how much of her saliva was in her hair by then from all the times Tea had tried to tame those lightning bangs. She simply stood there, obeying every order. Not even Yugi could tell if she were nervous or annoyed under the mascara and perfume.

"Alright. First one is just Pharah, and then I want one with me and her. Oh! And then the boys with Pharah in the middle. I want them all together. Do you think we could get us all in a family picture?"

"We could try, dear." Yugi agreed helplessly. Tea jumped with a giddy clap and blessed her husband with a kiss on the cheek. She adjusted Pharah into the perfect pose and she asked no questions about it. Yugi snapped a few more pictures before Tea decided to jump in and use her modeling skills. Howard and Carter weren't the most thrilled about their mother's compulsive picture taking, especially not when pulled from their breakfast to pose for what felt like hours.

"Mom, if we don't go now, Pharah is going to be late for her first day of school." Howard tuned convincingly.

"Oh, no. We need a family photo!"

"Mom, we can take one another time. My perfect attendance record is on the line here."

Tea huffed in resignation.

"Well, at least I'll have these. I can't wait to show my girls at work. They'll die! Pharah, honey, which one do you like best?" she reviewed the images on the camera screen for Pharah to see. "See, I think I like this one the best. There's a hint of actually enjoyment in this one! Haha, or what about… Pharah?"

Tea had almost forgotten how new this girl was to the world. Pharah sat feeling herself over, looking from the screen to her lap as if afraid she had disappeared. Her eyes held a genuine flash of fear.

"How did I get in there?" she jumped.

"N-No. You're not in there, this is just a picture."

"But that's me!"

"Yes, it is you. You know what?" she patted the girl's head, "How about Howard and Carter explain it to you on the way to school?"

"Oh, come on! Mom!" they howled.

"Hush up." She snapped. "You two better keep an eye on her. I already spoke with the teachers, but don't think that means you don't have to help her out. It's been a while since I've had to beat one of you, so don't give me a reason to today. My hand is feeling the urge. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah." The twins grumbled.

With a completely different face, she turned again to her dear, little Pharah.

"Now, stick with Howard and Carter, ok? If anything happens, you go straight to them. Use your manners, make friends, but remember everything I told you about last night. About boys and bullies, and-"

"Mom! Can we go now?"

"Babe, I think Pharah can handle it." Yugi tried to pry his wife from the girl. "Isn't that right, Pharah?"

"Yes, sir."

"See? Boys," he motioned for them to leave. Howard reached for Pharah, almost having to tug her out of the door. The trio began their way towards school, hopefully then tagging along with Lola and Rowan. If they even bothered to get up that morning. Tea and Yugi watched from the sidewalk as they went, holding each other closely and proudly.

"You really think she'll be alright?" asked Tea.

"I'm sure of it. The Pharaoh is watching over her, remember?"

* * *

**ANSWERS:**

**1). Mai and Joey married when they found out they were going to have another baby (Lola). Jacob was the cutest ring bearer there ever was.**

**2). Yes, Minako basically stalks Cortenica von Schroeder on all types of social media (twitter, facebook, instragram). They are constantly competing with one another, and Minako can be a very jealous girl. She also wants to know how Cortencia can have a relationship with Zigfried, while Minnie hardly gets a hello from her father.**

**3). Yes, you will see more Ishtars, and more yugioh characters and their children. That is all I will say.**


	14. First Time For Everything

"But then how am I still here? I saw my reflection in that paper."

"No, no, no." Howard tried again and again. "It wasn't your reflection. It was an image copy."

"Um…"

"It's like this, Pharah. The circular orb you saw in the camera is called a lens. And that in turn breaks light bouncing off of an object and redirects it so it comes together as a real image. It's a photograph. A picture. Basic science, Pharah."

"So, it is not me?"

"Well, it is. It's a picture _of_ you, but you physically are not in the camera or the paper."

Howard could finally breathe. It seemed Pharah had gotten the idea, or at least was smiling like she had. Either way, it was best to leave the topic alone for a while. The trio marched along the sidewalk; Pharah admiring the honking horns and bustling cafes, and the twins herding her at either side like to two less-than-intimidating guardians.

Whilst Carter seemed preoccupied with thoughts of his and Minnie's conversation the previous night, Howard had found a way to squeeze himself into a fatherly niche. Every few moments or so, he'd minded to ask her if she were nervous, or had any questions on what to expect. Every time the answer was no, but Howard still pursued. He'd held her back from crossing roads until he found it suitable and even advised she pull down her skirt. He hoped he'd not metamorphosed into his mother. But a responsibility was a responsibility. And if Carter wasn't going to do it- and damn well he wouldn't allow Lola to even try- he would guide Pharah onto the righteous path of a Straight-A student no matter the cost.

"Well, you have a greater attention span than Lola, I'll give you that. So you're off to a good start. Let's run through your schedule again, ok?"

"Ok." She slipped out the folded schedule inscribed with her scholastic fate. Howard tuned himself again to lecture her on the importance of manners and knowledge.

"Alright, Pharah. For the first half of the day, you're in classes with Carter and myself. Now, calculus and physics may seem somewhat challenging at first, but I assure you; hard work and some studying with me will make it a breeze. For English, unfortunately, you'll be moving into ESL since, well, English is not your first language. However, the day does get brighter when in-"

"Ya _salaam_." The expression had burst through her breath before she realized she'd said it at all. Pharah pushed forward, finding space between the twins to squeeze through, while her eyes fondled the grand sight displayed before her. There stood, and mostly proudly too, an imposing structure of windows and walls. Rows of glass honoured Pharah with the knowledge that she'd never be in another room without light here. There would always be an outside, always a world beyond. Such a massive structure could house her old shack in the desert, or two, or three. A bell nested beneath a pointed frame, poised to pounce when the clock that hung just below should strike eight.

What simply stole any last traces of her breath, however, was how undisturbed the students had been grazing in the yard. They all roamed freely over the fresh green lawn- some in giggling groups of pinks, others minding a ball being bullied by their feet. Some locked hands under the trees while others found the sweet romance of literature. Some even whored a cigarette between friends, or shot looks from the stairs. There was life here. So much of it. Such a variety of it. Even if every fleshly body was clothed in the same uniforms, there was no denying the amalgam of spirits that flowed through this building; like streams into rivers, rivers into oceans! To Pharah, this one building felt like the entire world had been summoned under one roof.

"Mis ma'uul!" she let fly with complete joy. Howard and Carter, nearly fluent in Arabic due to their father, smiled with her exclaim. To intense students like themselves, it was refreshing to see someone so excited for school. But no matter how well they understood her words of disbelief and merriment, they could not decipher how deeply the feelings entwined with the very texture of her being.

And, at last, there was one creature that made it all a tangible reality: Lola Wheeler. She called and called again, that high Brooklyn accent undeniably clear over the herds of chitchat. Pharah spotted her friend stampeding from the staircase. Glares followed her as she went, but Lola was well adapted to these raising eyebrows and rolling eyes. She cared not for those cheeky snickers, but instead for the trio of friends awaiting her.

"Pharah!" she cheered once more. "You're actually here! Heh, welcome to Domino High, girl!"

The girls exchanged a hug that did not go unnoticed by other wary females. Before Pharah would even enter the building, news of her arrival would be known to almost every student in Domino.

"Thank you. Oh, Lola, this place is incredible. I've never seen such a thing. Not in real life, of course. You come here every day?"

"Well, on the days I wake up. But I sure as hell had to be here for your first day of school! Are you nervous?"

"I was not until now. I believe there are what you call 'the butterflies' in my stomach. Although, I do not think I ever swallowed one. This place is huge! How will I ever find you guys, or know where to go?"

Lola pat the girl on her back with a heavy chuckle. "Eh, you'll get the hang of it. Follow me and you'll be set for life."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Came Howard from behind. "Not so fast, Pharah. Lola isn't exactly a school role model. I think you should stick with Carter and I at first. At least until you get settled in. You know?"

"But Howard. She is a Wheeler. I can trust her. Aunt Tea said so." Said Pharah firmly.

Lola snaked an arm around her then. "Yeah. I'm a Wheeler. I got lots'a advice."

"Yes, well, if we get into a street brawl or rap battle, you can do all the teaching you'd like, Lola. Until then, however, I made a promise to my parents to keep Pharah out of trouble. And quite frankly, you and trouble seem to have an on-and-off-again relationship."

"Blah, blah, blah." Lola teased. "C'mon, Howard. You really think I'm that irresponsible? Sheesh. You're worse than my mom."

Pharah giggled at Carter's side. It wasn't often that she understood the difference between true arguments and friendly banter, but the more she saw Lola and Howard tango around each other's words and bodies, the more she realized the gap between the two confrontations. And, moreover, she realized how both he and she insulted the other as if they wanted more- even when Howard would redden from the lack of space between his and Lola's faces.

But it was not to last. Pharah jolted when Carter's hand had found a way to push her aside. Carter shot her a look as if he'd been hinting for her to move for some time. But Pharah had felt nothing. Not a poke, not a pinch. Instinctually, Howard too felt the concern emanating from his twin and did his very best to blockade the Egyptian girl behind him. This motion, however, alerted Lola to the Rolls Royce strolling to the curb. Howard eyed Lola, then the car, and measured how close he could be to Pharah if Lola's temper was unusually hungry that morning.

Life at Domino High wilted. The chatter fell into a light compilation of breaths that could have been mistaken for a breeze. Suddenly, the boys abandoned their sporting, and the girls tended hastily to their hair and makeup as if soon to be interviewed. In fact, no one wanted to look in the car's direction at all. Pharah noted upon how many times a stray glance would sneak to the vehicle and then quickly turn away. There were no more friendly giggles or jokes to be heard. Even the twins had evolved into stone bodyguards. Lola clenched her firsts so tightly, Pharah could have sworn she heard the skin of her palm creaking like a leather whip. Everyone knew what was coming. Everyone but Pharah.

"Carter?" Pharah tried. "What is going on?"

"Not now," he started, but was unable to finish when a pair of long, sculpted legs slipped comely from the car's rear seat. Four other girls toddled around the car, but none so matched the grace of this polished princess. She wore the very same uniform as Pharah and all the other females at Domino; a pink coat, blue pleated skirt, unbearably brown loafers, and tall white socks. Yet, perhaps due to her lengthy legs, the glistening pearls dangling from the lobes of her ears, or the way the uniform sloped flauntingly into her curves, her uniform seemed far more dazzling than any other. In comparison to every other clad body, this girl's very air distinguished her at the highest of ranks. And everyone knew it. Accepted it, even.

Pharah once read about Amazons. There was one time when Om had gone out to who-knows-where, and brought back a collection of Greek and Roman myths. It was one of the most exciting gifts Om had ever given, because this was a peek into the past. This was like staring at the other side of the world through a tiny telescope she could make when curling up her hand into an O. Warriors. The Amazons were mighty women who not only towered over their enemies with their unseemly height, but were feared and respected as ruthless fighters. Though their eyes spoke of battle, their beauty was divinely ensured by the Goddess Aphrodite herself. Cold, harsh, untrusting women of swords. But grace all captured. This girl before her now reminded Pharah of these Amazons. And perhaps this was why Carter held her back.

Pharah watched intently as the girl and her posse walked past. She held herself so high above the world, it was hard to imagine her ever having a reason to look down. But she did! Just at their cross, these viperous blue eyes found Carter and then Pharah. The Egyptian gasped like their eyes meeting had the same effect as watching a jumpy horror movie. But there was no expression to be found on the enchantress' face. She only nodded, as if saving this image of their meeting to memory, and then looked away. The group continued into the school without anyone saying another word.

* * *

**Eventually, as Lola had** predicted, it all had become routine. Every class she would have to introduce herself; her name, her interests, where she'd come from. This was all rehearsed, of course. At Aunt Tea's command. And every time the class would shatter into whispers and loud questions when they'd heard she travelled all the way from Egypt. The twins were always there to coach her through every answer: yes, of course she'd seen the Great Pyramids. She saw them, like, every day from her bedroom window. Yes, it was often very hot, however she was totally used to it. No, people did not actually "walk like Egyptians" with strutting, crooked arms.

By fifth period, Pharah had been groomed into a marvelous liar. She gave the same speech over and over, but that never made it any truer. For all she knew, Egyptians could have walked on their hands and the pyramids could have been built by rainbow bricks. But, alas, how attractive would the truth of being a sheltered wierdo be in comparison to the story of a polite, young foreigner girl who's English failed every then and there? That was the story Uncle Yugi had come up with, so that was the story they'd stick with.

Luckily for her there were darling souls like Faith Bakura who kept a sort of balance in her life. And that was exactly who first offered to eat lunch with Pharah.

"You must be Pharah." The dough-eyed girl floated towards her desk.

"Yes. I am."

"I could tell by your hair, and those bright eyes of yours. You resemble your cousins and uncle very much. Would you mind if I joined you for lunch?"

"Uh…" Pharah looked for some approval by the twins or Lola. But none had been looking her way; Howard and Carter already elbow-deep into their studies, and Lola scarfing down as much food in one bite as possible. This she had to decide on her own. Pharah examined this girl carefully. Rolling hills of white hair blanketed her shoulders, while earthly angelic brown bulbs searched the world for kindness beneath her brow. She was quite drastically thee most snowy-skinned person Pharah had ever encountered. But something in that quaint, dainty smile, or maybe even the deep voice from somewhere in her mind, made Pharah smile in return and offer a seat.

"My name is Faith, by the way. Faith Bakura."

"Faith. This is a word I have heard before. It is… like hope?"

"Yeah. Believing in something good and powerful. Actually, your uncle was the inspiration for my name."

"Huh?"

"Haha. Our families go back a while. When my father was dealing some pretty tough times, you could say he really wasn't at all like himself. But your uncle Yugi helped him see the light and find his way again. All my father needed was a little faith. Faith in friends, and in himself. And, not too long after that, he_ did_ get a little Faith. Me!"

The girls laughed lightly.

"What about your name? It's not really Egyptian-Arabic when you think about it. Not that I know much about that. But it certainly sounds like 'pharaoh'. Heh, is there something you're not telling me, Your Highness?"

Pharah blushed. "My father was Pharaoh At- I mean… I can't tell you. Uncle Yugi said it wasn't a good idea. Forgive me."

Faith smiled so kindly, that her eyes closed and her long lashes feathered over her cheeks. "It's ok." She whispered gently. "I understand. If it helps, my father used to be acquainted with an Ancient Egyptian spirit. Maybe not on the same scale, but… I've grown up with the stories your father left behind. How he touched each and every soul he met. And, Pharah, he was a wonderful, brave man. Just the fact that you're here proves you have his same courage. Maybe that same awkwardness around such modern things and people, but courage more importantly."

"Y-You know?" her voice caught.

"Howard, Carter, Lola, Jacob, even little Rowan Taylor. We've all known since we were very little. All our parents knew him in some way or another; which, in a way, passes their friendship down to us. Don't worry, though. Your secret is safe with us. We're friends!"

"Friends…" Pharah hummed the word. She tried to imagine her golden father, shining in all his fine jewels, and touching the souls of Faith's father. It wasn't as elegant an image as Faith had painted, but it curled up her lips with a laugh; "I like that idea."

"Me too." She plopped a juicy ball of fruit into her mouth.

For a moment, they could simply exist. Just two girls who happened to have more to do with the paranormal than the normal. And they were ok with that.

Oddly enough, for a room full of teenagers, the classroom felt still and quiet. Lola's mouth- as it was wherever she went- was probably the loudest sound in the room. Everyone else seemed to have ignored their lunches; which again worked in the Wheeler's favor when asking to steal it. Their hands could not bear the crumbs of bread or cheese of chips. Not when their fingers were already so preoccupied taming and twiddling trading cards. Even Faith seemed unnerved by the intensity with which her classmates used to contemplate strategies. If only they'd applied the same brain-think towards their quizzes.

Faith eyes the clock shakily before looking down to the floor. She ceased tossing fruit balls joyously to her taste buds, and sat still like the rest of her schoolmates.

"Faith," came Pharah, "may I ask what is wrong?"

"Forgive me. It's just that Minnie will be coming to class any minute now."

"Who is Minnie?"

"Minako Kaiba. You've never heard of her?"

Pharah shook her head.

"Wow. You really were sheltered. Almost everyone in the world has heard her name. She's one the best duelists ever. Not once has she been defeated, even though her opponents were many and powerful. Not to mention she's the teen heart-throb of the century. She's so popular that sometimes the paparazzi will come onto school grounds. We have lock down drills just in case one is crazed or something. But that's the price of going to school with a celebrity, I guess."

"A celebrity." She analyzes the word. And at the stroke of twelve, before any more questions could be asked, the doors to the classroom shudder. Pharah's eyes widened for a moment, but then calmly assess the mob of finely primped females marching in. These were the same bobbing blondes and ravenous redheads that she had seen huddling around the car that morning. And there stood the Amazon at the center, leading her army with just mere facial movements.

"That's her." Faith whispered. "Minako Kaiba. But don't let her catch you saying her full name. She gets unbelievably angered by it. You don't even want to know. We simply address her as Minnie or Miss Kaiba."

Pharah noted this as she watched the gang storm through the classroom. The girls barely even waited for the students to stand before they were pushing desks out of the way. Faith guided Pharah to the back of the room where a few other bystanders waited without cards. Soon enough, all the desks were pushed to either side of the room and there was space enough for a wrestling match between them.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"A slaughter-party." Said Lola, coming protectively to Pharah's side. "Apparently everyone tuned in to that lame talk show last night, because there are more cards than students in this school."

"I don't understand."

"Of course not. You're new to all this. But last night, Minnie announced to the whole world that she'd be practicing her skills in Duel Monsters. New cards, new strategies, new everything. She uses the student body here like lab rats, giving her time to feel out the cards and find different ways to use 'em. The saddest part is that the morons here actually think they're gonna be the ones to finally beat her. You would've thought, suckers!"

Minnie stepped boldly into the center of the room. Her duel disk sprang to life on her wrist as if waking into a hungry rage. Her eyes watched for her first victim to step forward, and it was then that Carter knew that this was not he same girl he'd spoken to on the phone. This was not the Minnie that saw life as it was, or felt the hurt of her home. This Minnie was ready to swallow any lie so long as it meant tasting its sweetness. This Minnie was the one everyone saw on magazine covers or watched from the television. She was now daddy's little girl again; obedient and blind.

Carter retreated to the back of the room. Silent. Hurt. Not sure he could heal.

"Like I said last night; I'm only doing this to prepare for my duel for the gaming throne. None of you pose a threat to that, but if you think your skills are worth testing my newest cards on, then be my guest. But don't make me regret giving you a chance." Snipped Minako.

Pharah stood mesmerized by this creature. Sure, she was a beauty. Sure, there was talk of fame and fortune. But there was something so much more. She just didn't understand what. For a moment she let herself believe that Minnie would strike her first challenger like the scorpion had done to her ankle in Egypt. Maybe even eat him alive. But instead Minnie and her opponent shuffled each other's deck and headed to opposite sides of them room.

"This Duel Monsters. How is it played?" she questioned.

"Well," said Carter, "watch what they do. A deck is shuffled randomly so there's no easy win or cheating. Each person has eight-thousand life points, or two-thousand depending on how quickly or advanced you want to take the game. Basically, your goal is to get your opponent's life points to zero using an arsenal of monsters, traps, and spells."

As she listened to every word Carter had to speak, Pharah watched the duel play out before her. No matter the ferocity or power of the holographic monsters, Pharah could not find herself surprised. Which, strangely, was the only surprise she felt. She could not shake this inner disposition to the game; one way or another, it felt natural. Maybe she's seen these beasts before, maybe she'd dreamt of them so very long, long ago. And whilst Carter instructed, she nodded knowingly, as if the rules were some basic, human instinct. One she had not realized she had until she saw the holograms quarreling in the classroom.

One after another, Minnie tore through her opponents. Every victim ended on their knees, ashamed they had questioned a fate almost every duelist was destined for. Some matches lasted only a few turns before the lesser duelist's life points imploded. A conveyor belt of losers. All the while, Minnie's band of babbling hyenas needed to comment on each brave soul that dared to challenge Minako. This one was fat, that one smelt, the other shouldn't have even gotten out of bed with that face on. Minako would chortle too if the insults were extra creative. The beauty of her face faded with every snicker and snarl.

"This game looks most fun." Said Pharah.

"Yeah, for _Minnie_. For everyone else, it's just like lining up for public humiliation." Lola sighed. "Man, and people wonder why I can't stand her. Someday, I'm gonna beat her ass so hard, her daddy is gonna actually feel for her."

Faith gasped, placing a hand to her heart. "Lola! That was mean! Terribly mean!"

"Sending my brother to prison for no reason was mean. Man, someone needs to teach that bitch a lesson. I hope she loses a duel today- yeah, that'd be type funny. She's already thinking she won every damn match; bitch, please. I'll laugh my ass off if someone could beat her."

"Someone… wronged Jacob?" a little voice fell from Pharah's lips.

"Yeah. _Her_." She pointed daringly at the victorious brunette. "She's evil. Pure, whorish evil."

Lola and Faith continued on, conversing as if Pharah still were listening. Their words could not have been farther, however. When she looked upon the Amazon once more, she wondered how a figure so perfect and hair so tame could embody such menace. Even as she snickered when her opponent's failed, Pharah could feel a brokenness beneath every chortle. But Lola was her friend. Jacob was so kind, having offered her a look of condolence when no one else would. They were Wheelers. She could trust them. So Lola wouldn't lie, would she? And Jacob was innocent, right? And friendship was powerful, yes? Faith was the ability to believe in that power and that good, correct? So if it that were all true…

"Tell me that's not the best you've got. I thought I said _not _to make me regret giving you a chance to duel me. Pa-lease." Minako scoffed. Her opponent's life points faded away, just like their monsters and unused traps. The defeated duelist barely wanted to stand/ His girlfriend soon came to his ide and helped him back to the crowd formed around the classroom borders.

"What a waste. Ugh." She flipped her hair. "Who's next, huh? Anyone else feel like stepping up to the plate? Or maybe you've all realized there is no such as beating me."

The room was silent. Defeat wafted through the school like an aroma of decay, and no one was left with a voice. And that was why it was called a slaughter-party.

"I will duel you."

Everyone turned to the voice peeping out from the crowd. At first it felt like the ghost of a defeated rival had spoken, for no one could recognize the chirping sound. But then Pharah had managed to push her way past her classmates. It was then that Howard, Carter, and Lola all felt the sting of one of Tea's beatings already on their backs.

Minako squinted at the peasant who stood before her. Some array of confusion and disbelief contorted her face before she was forced to look to her posse. Even they lifted their arms without answers, shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads.

"Excuse me, but… who are you?"

"I'm Pharah." She said proudly.

**End Chapter**

**Thank you for reading!**

* * *

**Guten Tag, everyone! Hope all is well with you. A little update, I'm going to a lot of Yugioh tournaments this summer and therefore, I will be making a new video series on youtube for you ladies (which most of you are)- so if you want to know what to bring, what to expect, drama about the new meta, leave me questions in reviews and messages and I will get back to you.**

**1). "Ya salaam"- this is an expression used in Egypt (or, really, most Arabic speaking countries) for a multitude of reasons. In Pharah's context, it's kind of like saying "oh my gosh", or "wow". Most of the time, it is used as an expression of surprise as it was in this chapter, but I've also heard it used in informal greetings and to express happiness, or a love for something like a movie or book. It literally means "Oh Peace!"**

**2). "Mis Ma'uul" - (mis ma3'uul) is also an expression of disbelief or of something overwhelming. However, this one is used more in full sentences as opposed to "ya salam" which is often said by itself. In Pharah's context, it again means "incredible", "unbelievable". But it can also mean things like "that's horrible!", "no way!", or to express how annoyed one is.**


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